You were lost, then I found you
by Gummybear.Michaelis
Summary: Lord Voldemort won the Wizarding War with Harry Potter. But as the Dark Lord of Britain, he has far too many enemies. In an attempt to take revenge an Italian clan decides to take away his treasure: his and Harry's daughter. Eleven years pass and the child is still missing and her parents are desperate to get her back. She is alive, but who will save her from Fate? Warnings inside!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one:**

_There was a man sitting in front of a fire, silently reading a book with a pleased expression on his young face. Said silence was suddenly interrupted when the sound of small feet slamming on the floor echoed through the empty hallways. He heard, with his oversensitive hearing, murmured, excited whispers and he couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on his lips. Calmly, the man placed his book on his lap and as soon as he did, the door to the library was slammed open. _

"_Uncle Alek, Uncle Alek!" shrieked the small, black headed twins that he loved so much. "Story time! Tell us a story!" _

"_Please, Uncle Alek. Your stories are awesome!" gushed the small boy with intense green eyes that had small flecks of crimson swirling in them. _

_After many begged pleas and gushed compliments, Alek finally relented with a wicked smile. "Very well, you little pests. Which one would you like to hear tonight?" _

_The twins looked at each other and then with identical smiles turned to their uncle. "We want to hear the story of Grandma Anna." The young girl all but rushed out. _

_Alek's expression suddenly turned serious as he eyed his two eight year old nephews with a sad glint in his dark red eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded, almost to himself. "A very interesting story you've chosen, but also a sad one. A very, very sad one at that. Are you sure you want to hear it?" _

_The eight year olds nodded eagerly, anticipation clearly seeping through their pores. Sighing the man leaned back on his seat and started with the story he knew by heart. _

"_It started many, many years ago, when Grandma Anna was not even born. The war was won by the Dark side and Britain was being ruled by…"_

**May 28****th**** 2003 **

Lord Voldemort smiled smugly as his mind went back to the past five years. He couldn't help but feel pleased with himself as the memories all but came rushing to his amazing mind. Those past years, Voldemort decided, were the best of his entire life. He had everything he ever wanted; Britain in his power, Hogwarts, money, respect, power and the best thing among everything he had: Harry James Riddle nee Potter, icon of the nonexistent Light side and The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be -His.

Yes, Lord Voldemort was a happy man at last.

Everything was perfect, life was good, his rule was strong and his tummy was full. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Nothing could ruin how amazing things were for him. His pleasant thoughts were cut short by the sound of a crash and a scream and he couldn't help but sigh tiredly and pinch the bridge of his nose. He wondered what happened now and that question was answered soon enough when Lucius and Draco Malfoy entered his office looking extremely pale and shaken. In an instant, Lord Voldemort was alert for he knew that nothing made his two faithful followers look as shaken as they were, lest it be an emergency of some sort. And so when Lucius opened his mouth and told him what was going on, he couldn't help but freeze in shock at the news.

"My lord, the baby is coming. _Now."_

Who knows how long he just stood there, staring at nothing in particular with his red eyes wide with shock and terror, stiff as a wooden plank before his body finally decided to react. Sweat beaded his forehead, his hands started shaking in nervousness and his breathing got impossibly shallow. His mind, usually full of plans and schemes and intelligent thoughts, was currently blank, not able to process any kind of thought. Lucius words echoed strongly in his mind, over and over again, like a mantra. Stunning him, worrying him and making him go into a full blown panic he'd never felt in his life. He ran a hand through his wavy brown hair _(yes, he'd finally managed to get his original body back thanks to a very dark ritual that didn't include serpent venom as an ingredient)_ and pinched his nose, _(yes, he also has a nose now…)_ both being a nervous gesture of his. He let out a long, deep breath, trying to calm himself and failing before he looked at both of his still panicked looking followers.

"Oh Gods." Was the only thing that managed to escape his lips before he ran out of his office in a frantic frenzy?

Now, this was very unusual of him, he didn't run. At all. No matter how important the situation was. He stalked or walked very quickly, but _never, _and I repeat_, never,_ run. But this _was_ a special occasion, one could say. After all he was going to be a father in who knows how many minutes and his love was there, probably wanting him there. It could not wait. This was of utter importance. His priority at the moment. He probably looked like a maniac, running around like an uncultivated, boorish plebian with no manners but at the moment he didn't care in the least. In fact, that was the last thing on his mind now.

All he wanted was to get there…

As he neared the doors that led to the infirmary he'd made especially for his love, pained screams could be heard and his heart skipped a beat at the sound. He slammed the doors open and quickly made his way towards a sweaty and panting Harry Potter. Voldemort gave him a small smile as he gently took the smaller hand in his and that gained him a sneer. As another contraction hit, Harry tightened his hand around the Dark Lord's bigger one painfully, making the red eyed male wince slightly. The green eyes beauty was looking at him with his eyes narrowed, his mouth parted slightly to take deep, shallow breaths and his tanned skin was damp with a thin layer of sweat. He looked beautiful and the Dark Lord couldn't help but marvel at his beauty. His thoughts, however, were broken when Harry started shouting at him in the midst of his pain.

The medi-witch looked over at Voldemort and grimaced slightly in sympathy. She then turned to Harry and told him to calm down as gently and patiently as she could, she did not want to anger her patient unnecessarily. Jade eyes narrowed in anger but soon closed when he started to push.

"That's it, Mr. Riddle, push." The medi-witch instructed kindly.

"AGHHHHH! Tom, you are never touching me again! NEVER! You filthy bastard, I won't let you fuck me ever again! Do you hear me!?" Harry screamed over and over again and Voldemort, knowing that his husband didn't really mean any of it, at least he hoped so, agreed wholeheartedly. He didn't even got mad at him for yelling such things at him; after all, he must be in extreme pain.

He felt as if his hand was being strangled but he didn't let that bother him, he'd felt stronger pain, instead he whispered soothing words to the screaming Harry and ran his free hand through the sweaty locks of ebony hair he so loved to caress and pull when he was feeling sadistic. This went on for who knew how long, perhaps only minutes passed, perhaps hours but eventually his love stopped screaming as he slumped down on his pillow, relief clear on his expression.

Severus, who had been there helping the medi-witch, quickly fed Harry a potion and once that was done, the crying of a baby filled the room. Cooing down at the bundle of pinks, yellows and greens that was their baby, the medi-witch gently placed said warm bundle on the weak arms of the-boy-who-lived.

The teary eyed Harry looked down to see his baby's face and a soft sob escaped his lips when looking at her. With a shaky hand, he caressed the soft, little cheek of his baby and looked up, his green eyes falling on his husband. Harry gave Voldemort a watery smile and said man smiled in return.

"She's beautiful." He murmured, still caressing his daughter.

Voldemort hummed lowly and sat down besides his husband when Harry beckoned him. As soon as sat down, the love of his life placed the small bundle on his arms, shocking him. Red eyes turned towards Harry in nervousness but an encouraging nod was all he received in return.

So taking a deep breath, Voldemort slowly looked down at the warm bundle that had been placed in his arms. A gasp escaped his lips before he could stifle it and he felt an utterly warm sensation filling his being as he watched the little face of his baby girl. His red eyes drank her in greedily and he couldn't believe that this was happening to him.

He had never wanted children, never, but now that he was holding Harry's and his little child he couldn't help but feel the warmth and happiness that flooded his whole being. It was like nothing he'd ever felt, not before he started his relationship with Harry.

Even now, it was still a feeling he had never experienced. And so, with a gentleness only known by Harry, he traced a graceful, pale finger on his daughter's cheeks, just like Harry had done. Without him knowing, a soft smile had appeared on his lips as he marveled the beauty of his daughter. Because she was indeed beautiful, perhaps even more beautiful than he had ever been in his youth.

She was currently looking up at him with big, sleepy, stunning red eyes. Her skin was of a creamy color, soft and pure. Her little nose was a bit sharp and straight and she had a pair of luscious, pink lips; Harry's lips. On the top of her little head, she had beautiful wavy black hair, a mix between Harry's hair and his hair. She was a beautiful baby girl and Voldemort couldn't help but stare at her. This was his daughter, he thought proudly.

So with wide eyes, he looked up at Harry and then breathed in silent shock: "She's so…so small."

Chuckling, Harry gently caressed his face and then said "I know" after having brushed a satisfied, soft kiss on his lips. The both of them spent a few minutes staring down at their daughter before Severus, who had left as soon as he gave the potion to Harry, entered the room with Lucius, Narcissa and Draco following closely behind him.

"Hey Pothead, how is she? May I?" Draco asked, jumping up and down in his eagerness.

Harry laughed softly as Voldemort gently placed their daughter on his arms. He then offered her to Draco, who squealed in a rather unmanly way, before taking his little cousin in his arms. His face instantly softened, all the stress lines and scars vanished from his features, making him look way younger than he really was. Narcissa quietly looked over her son's shoulder, a soft smile lighting up her beautiful face.

After a few minutes, Draco started cooing softly at the baby girl, making all those surrounding him smile gently in return, Voldemort tried to hide his smile though. Lucius and Severus were looking down at the baby with wide eyes full of warmth and for more than half an hour, no one spoke a word. All of them stood staring at the new girl of their family.

"What will you name her?" Lucius asked eventually, his usually cold voice soft and melodic.

The green eyed male looked towards his husband, a little frown in between his brows as he thought in silence. A small smile appeared on his lips after a few minutes and everyone perked up expectantly. Harry then got upslowly, carefully nestled his baby into his arms as snuggle as he could manage and while he looked at her with his jade colored eyes full of adoration and love he said with his voice dripping with happiness:

"Annamaria Merope Riddle."

Voldemort looked slightly shocked by the name but was pleased nonetheless. He quickly rearranged his expression into a pleased one and he smiled at his little savior and world, then said with a small smile,

"Annamaria…it is fitting, I like it. Now I have to persons to protect, my Harry and my Annamaria."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

* * *

**Chapter two:**

_"Your grandmother was a very lively child when younger. You can actually see that the way she is now, actually. She made everyone go crazy, running around the place and causing havoc that would surely put any kid to shame. I bet mum was a quite fun kid to be around." A small smirk appeared on his lips as he remembered the fond expression of his father's face when he had told him this very same story."Anyways, the point is that she always made some kind of trouble.** Always.**" _

* * *

**October 26****th**** 2006**

"Annamaria Merope Riddle!"

That shout was one that was commonly heard by the habitants or visitors of the Riddle manor. Most of the times the one who was mostly heard screaming was Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter himself, but that was not the case today. Today, the one who was chasing a laughing three year old while looking completely infuriated and thoroughly blue was the one and only Severus Snape, the girl's godfather and potion master.

Annamaria, who was known for her intelligence, charisma, wit and fiery disposition, was currently running around, trying and succeeding in evading her furious godfather whom she managed to turn blue with a curious little spell she found in a book her daddy had given her. Her three year old legs were leading her through the maze of halls that were her home as if on their own, but no matter where she turned her godfather always seemed follow her.

It seemed to her that the more she tried to escape him the angrier her godfather became. She was having a lot of fun, but having a very angry Severus Snape was not on the top of her list. After all, he always gave her gifts and taught her a lot of handy spells and things. The man was useful, smart and so very amazing, no matter how much of a bitter man he sometimes was. Annamaria had to admit that she loved her bitter, slightly grouchy godfather.

Lost in thought as she was, she literally ran into a solid wall, making her fall on her behind. She winced in pain and her eyes welled with tears. Slowly she looked up, only to see the shocked face of her Uncle Lucius looking down at her. They stared at each other in silence, both hearing as Severus quickly neared them, but at the moment little Annamaria didn't care about that at all.

Her behind hurt and so did her hands, and it hurt really bad! Her lower lip trembled delicately as tears started to fall down her eyes, making Lucius panic slightly while thinking that his niece was extremely cute. Soon enough she was sobbing quietly and Lucius, uncaring of his expensive robes, sat down on the floor and gently placed her on his lap.

His hand rubbed soothing circles on her back as she sobbed away on his chest, wetting his fine buttoned shirt with tears, and clinged to his dark robes. He buried his aristocratic nose on her wavy mane of long black hair as he whispered soothing words to her.

And that is how Severus found them. Annamaria clinging to Lucius while crying and Lucius holding her and soothing her as best as he could. The blonde male looked up when he heard the potion master's steps and nodded to the worried, currently blue man. Severus sighed and kneeled in front of the girl, his anger long gone. He placed his potion stained hand on her back and his goddaughter looked up to him, her gorgeous ruby eyes wet with tears.

"What happened? Why are you crying, Anna?" Severus asked, using the nickname she loved very much and knew would tell her he was no longer mad.

The girl sniffled a bit before turning to him, still clinging to Lucius. "I ran into Unca Luc and fell on my bewhind. I hurt my hands and my bewhind, Unca Sev and it hurts a lot!"

Severus's lips flattened into themselves as he tried to hold in his laughter. Instead of laughing like he wanted to, he hummed lowly, watching as Annamaria dried her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of her robe. He placed a finger to his lips; making a show as if he were thinking about something important and he saw the girl perk up slightly in interest.

He internally smirked to himself; it was amazing how innocent and utterly naive kids could be at this age. The man wondered what had this girl done to him for she was the only one -besides her blasted father!—that could get to him. It was disconcerting but at the moment he had pressing matters he needed to take care of.

So he looked back at the little girl, suppressing his urge to smile like a loon at her adorableness, and crossed his arms across his chest. "Perhaps you should let me take a look at your hands, Anna. That way I'll know how bad it is."

The girl made a face and pursed her pink lips as she looked up at him, tears long gone from her stunning eyes. "But you gif me yucky potions! I don't like those, Unca Sev. But I will go wif you if you gif me the icorice wands that Unca Luc brought me from—"

"L-Lucius, the D-Dark Lord is a-asking for you to meet him in h-his s-s-study." A voice squeaked pathetically from not far behind them, successfully interrupting Annamaria.

"Pettigrew," Lucius spat the name as if it was a curse, "scurry off, you filthy abomination, and tell our Lord that I'll be with him shortly since I am taking care of little Annamaria."

"B-B-But he ha-has asked for you n—Ngh!" The man stuttered out.

The man was suddenly interrupted when an angry Annamaria kicks him in the shin repeatedly with her small foot, an angry scowl on her face. She places her small hands on her hips and glared up at the cowering man before her. "Pewter! It is very rude to tawlk when I tawlk! Apowogize, apowogize!"

With every reprimanding word that came out of her mouth a kick was delivered to the man's shin. Screeching in pain, Peter backed away from the little girl, his black eyes shining with hatred and pain. He then bowed stiffly with a slight wince on his face and then said:

"I a-apologize, y-y-young mi-mistress." And with that, the man left.

Annamaria, pleased with herself for having made the rat go away, said: "Your potions are yucky but I will go wif you if you gif me the icorice wands Unca Luc gave me. The ones papa hid away."

"I should not really go against your papa's wishes, but alright." Severus answered with an amused smirk.

The girl clapped happily, hugged Severus tightly and then started running around them both while screaming gleefully "Yay!" as she did so. Both men couldn't help it anymore and they laughed loudly, or rather chuckled, at their niece's antics.

* * *

**April 15****th**** 2008**

"Her birthday is coming soon, my lord." Lucius Malfoy said, his grey eyes glittering madly with a pleased light.

"Yes, we were planning on making her a party. After all, she will be six years old." Voldemort answered matter-of-factly, his voice full of pride.

"True, true. She's growing up so fast." Draco chimed in, his eyes shinny with un-shed tears.

Voldemort rolled his eyes at the younger blonde; the man was so very dramatic to be a Malfoy. He shook his head slightly and then turned towards his husband. He smiled at the green eyed male and just when he was about to open his mouth to tell his dear husband how excited would their little girl would be, the door banged open, revealing a very pale, wide eyed and shaking Severus Snape. The Dark Lord snapped his mouth shut instantly and turned his ruby eyes towards his right hand man and friend.

"Severus, what is wrong? Are you alright?" Harry asked, noticing the slight trembling of the man's hands. The potion master simply shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his ragged breathing and the trembling of his hands. When they asked him once again what was wrong, the man looked up, his eyes full with awe and shock. This intrigued the occupants of the room greatly and they once again asked the man what was wrong. This time he managed to answer them in a breathless voice:

"You must see this."

As soon as those words left his mouth, the man turned on his heel and walked away in long strides, leaving four baffled and extremely intrigued men behind.

The four males stared at each other for a while and then got up to follow the dark haired man as quickly as they could without ceasing to look as the dignified purebloods they were. Soon enough they caught up with Severus and they were curious as to why the man would lead them to the room in where he had his daily training with Annamaria. But that question was soon answered when they opened the door, revealing a shocking sight.

In the middle of the room, looking completely enraged and stiff stood Annamaria herself. She was holding Voldemort's wand tightly in her hand while she pointed the yew stick towards a screeching Peter Pettigrew. The man was in mid air, screeching in fright as the five –nearly six year old—girl glared hatefully up at magic was swirling around her wildly, fueling the spell and making those in the room dizzy by the mere power of it. She then snapped her wrist to the side and Peter did the same, screaming at the top of his lungs as he slammed with a loud _thump_ against the side wall.

With a gleeful expression on her face, Annamaria proceeded to slam the man against the walls, ceiling and floor as hard and as repeatedly as she could, not caring that she was breaking the man's bones every time she made his body collide with the concrete wall. The screams of pain the man uttered made a small, sadistic smile appear on her lips as the four males watched her rather stunning display of magic with wide eyes and silent shock.

To say that they were shocked was an understatement. They knew that Annamaria disliked the man with a passion and it seemed that the feeling was mutual but they never thought it would come to this. Harry and Voldemort wondered what the idiot had done to make their little girl as angry as she was.

They knew that their daughter had a volatile anger but this was the first time that she had used magic to take her anger out on the man. Usually she would prank the living daylights out of him or simply order the man around the manor as if he were a mere servant, ordering him to do ridiculous things that would embarrass anyone. So the fact that she was using her magic on the man, the levitating charm to be exact (a first year spell), was rather surprising.

Harry recovered from his shock first and he quickly made his way towards his Annamaria. He wrapped his lithe, strong arms around the small body of his daughter and he instantly felt her relax slightly against him. Slowly, she lowered the wand and let the rat fall with a loud thud onto the floor.

She was trembling and breathing hard, all the while glaring hatefully at Peter. The man was whimpering pitifully and Harry couldn't help but feel a bit smug at that. He deserved that and more, much, much more, he knew. He rubbed soothing circles on her back and started whispering soft words on her ear.

"What is going on here?" Voldemort asked seriously, his red eyes hard.

He waited for an answer but when neither of them answered them, he growled lowly and then said in a threatening voice that would put the bravest wizard cowering even in his sleep: "Annamaria."

"That idiot saw it fit to actually push me with his filthy hands, and so, I decided that I might as well return the favor." Annamaria huffed coldly with her chin high up.

Voldemort narrowed his crimson eyes at the rat. He knew that his daughter didn't lie, she was horrible at it, so he knew that Peter did, in fact, dared to push his little girl.

"Crucio!" Voldemort spat angrily and he watched with satisfaction as the already bleeding and beat up man started to screech horribly and bend in ways that now human should ever do. A few minutes passed and the red eyed man lifted the curse, albeit a bit reluctantly. "If you ever, lay a hand on my daughter ever again, I'll make sure you regret ever being born, Pettigrew."

"Y-y-y-y-yes m-my lo-lord." Was his stuttered reply.

The Dark Lord then turned to watch his daughter and husband and he allowed a small smile appear on his lips. He slowly walked up to them and once he was of reach, he picked his daughter up swiftly after having kissed his husband silly.

She quickly placed her arms around his neck and smiled, looking delighted in a wicked way. Her ruby eyes drifted for a few seconds to the still shocked faces of her cousin Draco and his Uncle Luc before they settled on the equally red eyes of her papa.

"Papa, you must teach me how to do that!" she exclaimed.

"He will, love, but later." Harry piped in cheerfully before kissing her nose softly.

Annamaria pouted adorably at Harry, who simply stuck his tongue out at her in a childish manner before smiling lovingly. Voldemort, who had to accept that he was a sucker for his daughter's kicked puppy looks (or her daughter per se), quickly thought of a way to make that little pout go away.

"Yes, your daddy is right. Now…how about a cookie?"

_That seemed to do the trick_, he thought with a mental smirk. "Yay! Can I give one to Cato, too?"

After that, they spent the evening marveling at how much snakes can like chocolate chips cookies to care about the upcoming blow Fate was to give them.

* * *

AN: Hai~ Relatively short again...but as you might have noticed, this chapter was to show Annamaria's relationship with a few characters and her dislike to some. Even if it is a bit boring, things will get interesting...Hopefully. I really do hope you enjoyed this. Pfft, I did. :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three:**

_His face suddenly turned somber, making him look grim and older. With a sad sigh he said, his voice full of regret and sorrow: _

"_Even though things were great with the family, there is always someone in every story plotting to ruin the other's happiness. And that is exactly what happened here…"_

* * *

**January 13****th**** 2009**

The slamming of a fist on a wooden surface echoed in the silent room, making the sound, sound even louder to unsuspecting ears. The tension was high and the anger and exasperation coming off two of the three occupants of the room was palpable in the air. You could nearly touch it, feel it and smell it even.

"I say we go up to him and demand a duel to death! It is the only way."

"Have you gone completely out of your mind!? We can't just go up to the greatest Dark Lord since Grindelwald and boldly demand him to duel with any of us. The man defeated Albus Dumbledore with his bare hands, for Merlin's beard! For once in your life, I beg of you, use your brain. You have it for a reason, do you not?" the heavy Italian accented male voice exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice.

"But that is our best course! We have tried everything and we can't just sit here, watching as he grows even merrier and even more powerful as we're simply stuck in the nothingness _He's_ left. He has to pay for what he'd done, and you know it." A female voice replied, her Italian accent just as thick.

"I do know it, but that is simply not our best course to take. It would be suicide!" the male retorted, anger apparent and clear in his voice.

Silence fell once again upon them and the only sound was that of heavy breathing and the humming of a song. The silence went on for a while, each occupant either lost on their thoughts or glaring hatefully at one the other. After what felt like hours finally someone spoke calmly:

"I have to agree, after all that man is powerful. Not to mention that he has a powerful husband and an equally powerful band of wizards at his command. Now what do you suggest we do, Donatello?"

Donatello, seemingly pleased with the attention he was receiving from their leader, smiled pleasantly. After allowing himself to have a few minutes of thought he said in a sure voice.

"I suggest we take something important from him."

"And what will be important enough for the Dark Lord?" the woman snorted.

"His daughter, of course." He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "From what I perceived these past weeks, it seems that the man is completely in love with his daughter, so is his husband. And I figured…that if we were to kidnap her, the man would be devastated. Not only would he be completely crushed but Harry Potter would be also. We would be killing two birds in one shot."

"It is…a plausible plan." Their leader said after a small pause.

"As much as I hate to say this, I agree. But the question is, how are we going to get in? It is rumored that his manor is the most heavily warded manor in whole Britain. We'll need to somehow break into his wards and that'll probably take weeks, months even." The woman said logically.

The three of them fell silent, all thinking about the many possibilities when suddenly a rat dashes from the other side of the room and transforms into a pale, bald, fat man. Startled by the man's sudden appearance they drew their wands and pointed it at the intruder before the man could even blink.

Stuttering and grimacing in fear, the man brought his hands up as if in surrender. The fat man left his arms raised and after making no move of attack, the three of them slowly lowered their wands. The Italian wizards started at the rat man warily, wondering where had the man had come from and what exactly did he want.

"Who are you? What do you want and how were you able to get in?" the woman demanded while trying to veil her nervousness.

"My name is P-Peter Pettigrew and I have a proposition to make. This proposition will benefit all of us, I am sure."

* * *

_***May 29**__**th**__** 2009* 4:05 am, Riddle manor. **_

Peter Pettigrew made his way out of a dark alleyway while smirking slightly to himself. Today was the day. Finally, after six long years of having to actually bow down to the torture of such naïve childishness, things were looking up for him. At long last! Yes, only a few more hours and his problem will be gone for real! Perhaps, even forever! Peter chuckled lowly in cold amusement, a wicked glint in his obsidian, small eyes.

Everything was carefully done, he knew, he'd made sure of it. And with the _Italian Furies_ by his side things were really going to go outstandingly good. Like that muggle saying said: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Yes, even though those three wanted the total destruction of his Lord, he couldn't really let them do so. No, that is why he was getting rid of…of _It_. He knew that if that thing was kept near his Lord, the man would fall, he would become a soft hearted fool and no one could afford that…Not when he had such enemies as_ them_ plotting his downfall. That is why, being the faithful follower that he was, he was doing this to help his Lord.

The rat animagus pressed a silver finger to thin his lips as he thought. The Italian Furies, or at least those three, were an odd bunch, he knew. They were hellbent on revenge and while they were mildly talented wizards, they lacked the imagination and acting skills one needed to possess in order to do what was needed. Yes, those three were too straight forward for his taste, but he could relate to them. After all, if someone were to kill his Lord he'll want to avenge his death too.

The animagus remembered how this want for revenge started. It all started one year before the war started for real, and the Dark Lord was recruiting more followers, or the last few followers he needed in order to make his victory more swiftly. The Italian Furies, which were a group of extremely talented, pureblooded, dark Italian wizards, and his Lord were nearly completing their deal. That being the case, the leader of the Italian wizards, Michelangelo Moretti, invited the Dark Lord and his fiancee, Harry James Potter, to the annual Yule Ball they always held.

The Dark Lord was pleased by how things were going so he left to finish the deal they've made in private. As soon as the man had left, the Potter spawn was left alone momentarily and in an instant Michelangelo Moretti who, if he was honest and admitted it to himself, was a very handsome Italian man with light olive skin and hazel eyes, dark brown wavy hair and a smile that could blind everyone. The man then started flirting balantly with the young man, being drawn to him by his radiant green eyes of Hell.

At that moment, everybody knew that he was a dead man. The Dark Lord returned and saw Michelangelo dragging his fiancee away from the ball room and by the time his Lord had gotten his hands on Moretti, the man was ravishing the green eyed male against his will. Well, to say that the man was a bloody pulp by the end the Dark Lord finished with him is nothing more than the truth. Peter could bet that all of the man's followers still had nightmares of his death.

Another amused chuckle escaped the pale lips of Peter. It was so very amusing, to die by the hand of thevery same person who promised you riches and…utter freedom and only because he decided to do such stupid thing. Ah, well things happened for a reason, don't they? The rat shook his head, he needed to focus. Yes, he needed to be alert, just in case something unplanned happened.

His plan was fool proof, after all those three actually fell for it. Besides liberating him from such a pest, they were leaving with _It_, foolishly believing that the Dark Lord would stop looking for that little pest as soon as he saw that it was not in Britain. Right! In the end, he was sure that the Dark Lord would find them and instantly kill them for daring to take his precious treasure. That is why he was making sure _now_ that he didn't have any dirt that could probably tell the Dark Lord that he was also part of this plan. That'd be disastrous for him! But that was not going to happen, after all, he was out looking for some _rats _to feed that hideous snake of his…In the end, the Dark Lord would still stand strong, the pest would probably be dead by the time his Lord found it and the Italian Furies would be no more. It was perfect!

He stopped in front of the wards of the Dark Lord's manor as he internally smirked to himself. He knew the wards were powerful and ancient…good thing he was very apt in Transfiguration. Perhaps he would go to McGonagall one day and thank her…Perhaps not.

He threw a fleeting glance to the writhing pouch that he held in his silver hand and smirked widely. Well, better start this now than ever. With that thought in mind, Peter entered the wards and his smirk widened ever so slightly when nothing particulary painful or wrong happened to him or the rats.

"_Good." _

The animagus kept walking forward until he was inside the quiet, dark manor. He knew that his Lord would probably be in his study or perhaps with the Potter pawn in their room, so he needed to be quick. Nodding to himself in agreement, he quickly rode up the stairs as quietly as he could without the aid of his magic. Soon enough he was in the hall he wanted to be, and as quietly as he could manage, he placed the squirming bag on the floor and opened it, revealing three impatient lookin rats. Peter took out his wand and jerked his wrist once. He then took a silent step back and watched with rapt attention as the three rats grew lare and taller until finally they transformed into three young wizards.

His dark eyes greedily took in their appearance, smirking gleefully when he noted that the three looked dishiveled. There was a tall blonde woman, with light green eyes and white beautiful skin. Her lips were plump and pink, and they were parted in shock as she gawked her surroundings with wide eyes and messy hair. Besides the woman stood a lean, arrongant looking man. He had light brown hair that fell into his eyes, pale skin and a few scars marred his face. His eyes were a pale blue in color and his thin lips were pressed into a thin line. The last man was the smart one, that was for sure, and he stood besides the girl, he was tall and muscular with olive skin. His eyes were a light brown and he had short black, curly hair.

Once they were back to their normal physical appearance, Peter murmured a _Muffilato_. The olive skinned man looked at the rat animagus and then said quietly: "Let us do what we're here for."

Peter nodded quietly and eagerly took them towards the third door on the corridor. With ease, the dark skinned place another charm around them, just in case, as Peter opened the door that led to the room.

The three wizards entered the room and looked around the room with a raised eyebrow. The room was not what they expected. They expected to see something extremely pink and simply utterly disgusting but instead they encountered a green and blue room full of pictures of smiling wizards and witches hanging on the wall and resting on the drawers.

A small rock sat in front of the big windows that out looked a white balcony and a small black snake was resting on top of it, seemingly sleeping soundly. There was a mahogany desk on the far right wall of the room, which was littered with pencils and drawings.

A Nimbus Sweeper 2009 was resting snugly against the dresser and if one looked closely enough, one could notice that small organized chaos of birthday presents that were besides said dresser. There were weird plants near the windows and odd shaped necklaces and earrings on top of the dresser.

And right there, sleeping on the four posted blue bed that was in the middle of the room was the pest they were looking for. The little pest seemed like a six year old but in truth, it was a demon in disguise. A demon that haunted Peter even in his dreams. He was so glad that this was the last day of his infernal suffering and he was so very pleased of having her disappear the map for some time, namely his life. Hopefully long, long years to come. Peter glared at the sleeping girl in disdain, and pure loathing wanting nothing more than to grasp her fragile neck and wring it over and over again until her little flame of life simply vanished...

"You've got to be joking…This little girl cannot really be as bad as you make her out to be." The dark haired man, Donatello he rememered, said in utter disbelief and slight apprehension.

"Do not let her innocent looks fool you!" Peter sneered in disgust. "And nevertheless, even if she were not all that bad you wanted her for your own reasons, so I suggest you get to it before the snake wakes up."

"He's right…" the man with the light brown hair said, Lancelot, quietly.

Lancelot nodded to the woman, Bianca, and she took a potion vial out of her pocket with an anticipatory smirk. She uncorked the vial and silently walked towards the bed. Gently, she took the girl's cheeks in her hand, and slowly she pried her mouth. She placed the opening of the vial on her lips and the girl opened her ruby eyes sleepily For a while she seemed dazed as she slowly drank the potion she was being fed, but when she came to, it was already too late. Her crimson eyes widened in fright and she started to kick and claw hysterically at Bianca. The woman simply tightened her grasp on her face and force fed her the rest of the potion.

The crimson eyed girl spluttered and coughed, as she slowly stopped fighting Bianca and her strong grasp. A few minutes passed and her wide, frightened eyes dropped closed. And all thanks to the Sleeping Potion Bianca had fed her. The Italian witch got up and pleasantly smirked at the three men, then she said softly:

"She's asleep…"

Peter and Lancelot smirked while Donatello stood to the side, watching the proceedings with a small uncertain frown on his lips. The blue eyed male walked over the bed and placed the sleeping girl on his shoulder carelessly, his pleased smirk never leaving his pale face. Bianca smiled widely at them and then left the room and waited outside for them.

"You…you never said she was six years old…" Donatello said, hesitantingly.

The animagus turned to him and sneered: "It doesn't matter! You were going to get her and now you got her. Now come, let's leave before—"

In that same moment hissing sounds filled the room. Donatello, Peter and Lancelot quickly turned on their heels only to come face to face with an angry yet sleepy black boa. The boa was hissing hysterically and when its eyes fell on them the snake quickly lunged at them, trying to protect the vulnerable form of the girl. Donatello brought his wand up and exclaimed as quietly and quickly as he could:

"_Impedimenta_!" The effect was instant, the fast strike of the snake slowed down, giving them enough time to actually get out of the room and make it downstairs without any other problems. The wizards knew that it was only a matter of time until the spell wore off, so they needed to be quick and get out of there as soon as possible.

The four wizards ran as fast as they could, adrenaline pumping through their veins, afraid that something more disastrous would happen if they took long. Lancelot got his wand out and then whispered under his breath in Italian. Peter threw him a questioning glance but the Italian wizard simply ignored him in order to keep murmuring. After what felt like hours of running, they were finally outside and without glancing once back, Lancelot, Bianca and Donatello crossed the wards.

Bianca took a small silver dragon figurine out of her pocket but before she could utter the key word, Peter placed his silver hand on her shoulder and squeezed it slightly: "Remember our deal. You must take her away to some place He isn't able to find her."

"Peter, dear, we do know what our deal was. You helped us get her out of this damned house and now we would get her away from the wizarding world for as long as we can. We know, alright." Bianca said with a scowl on her pretty face.

"Yes but—"

"Look here, rat, we know what we are to do with her, now let us be and go away before the bloody man and his whore knows that we've taken his stinkin' daughter." Lancelot spat angrily, successfully interrupting Peter.

Tense silence fell upon them and for a long while no one spoke. Peter, after a few minutes of uncomfortable staring and some glaring, finally nodded his consent. Lancelot nodded tersely back at him after he snatched the portkey out of Bianca's hands. The three of them got ready, each touching at least some small part of the figurine with anticipation flowing out of them in waves.

"What is her name?" Donatello inquired quietly.

"_Annamaria Merope Riddle."_ The rat spat the name as if it were a curse.

"Hmm…such a pretty name. Do not worry Peter, we'll make sure no one finds her." Bianca smiled slightly.

"Indeed. Oh and remember, I want her to suffer. Make her suffer at the best of your capabilities."

Lancelot gave him a sadistic smile and then answered: "Oh, but we will."

And with that, the three wizards and the girl disapparated away, leaving a satisfied Peter alone. Everything went perfect! Now all he had to do was wait until some of the house elves took notice of her absence and reported it to the Dark Lord. He knew that it was a matter of time for it to really happen. Peter knew that a house elf came to check on the girl every two hours, so in exactly an hour and fifteen minutes chaos would break loose. He let out a bout of laughter.

_Yes_, Peter smiled, _life was good. _His thoughts drifted happily as he walked away to the manor of his master with a small satisfied smile on his pudgy face.

* * *

**A/N**: Tataaa! Hehehe, Happy late Valentine's Day. Hope you got lots and lots of chocolate and uh...love..? So...this story is slowly moving on. Yeah. _Peter Pettigrew is extremely AU but everything's cool._ I've always found him pathetic...Any questions feel free to ask me, I'll try to answer as best as I can.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four:**

"_Sorrow and grief made themselves known soon enough, piercing and stabbing restlessly at their swollen, nearly broken hearts. It was as if everything they've ever loved vanished in a second, without giving them any warning, any type of sign." _

_His eyes held a hint of rising darkness in them and the two children looked at each other in man looked at them quite suddenly and continued with the story, his eyes full of pain with every word that slipped past his full lips._

* * *

_**May 29**__**th**__** 2009/6:00 am, Riddle manor. **_

The sun was shining brightly on a clear blue sky. The fluffy clouds slowly moved about as if in a trance, happily roaming the world without a care. The breeze was warm and it smelled of lilacs and roses, of rain and earth. The birds sang their beautiful songs cheerfully, a heartwarming sonata for the soul. Everything seemed perfect; the blooming flowers to the happy chirping of the little birds.

Harry stretched contently. A sigh escaped his lips when he felt a warm, hard body pressed against his back and a small smile appeared on his features. He carefully turned around, not wanting to wake up the sleeping body behind him, only to come face to face with the slumbering face of his Tom. The man looked so beautiful sleeping, his face free of stress lines and of that ugly scowl. He looked peaceful, happy even, when he was like this. It warmed his heart to know that Tom trusted him enough to let him see him like this.

He traced the slumbering man's face with a pale finger, softly, lovingly. He loved his sharp nose, his soft thin lips, the strong, manly jaw, his high cheekbones, his eyebrows, everything. For him, Tom was the most beautiful person in the world.

Harry shook his head, his hand still resting on Tom's cheek. He knew that he shouldn't love the man that had murdered innumerable of innocent people. The same man who murdered his parents, Cedric and had wanted, and tired, to murder him ever since he could remember. But one couldn't really choose who to love, and he'd learned this by falling in love with Tom. Yes, the man was a sarcastic, sadistic bastard who loved nothing more than to torture his followers and intimidate people to do his will but he was different with him. At first he wasn't, but little by little, Harry was able to get the slightly caring, sometimes gentle and loving Tom to the surface. Only for him.

Now that he looked back to when he was fifteen he realized that he had made the right choice in coming to him when he did so. He felt betrayed at the time, still did every time he thought about it, and the only choices he had was to still be with the same man who wanted him to sacrifice his life and dreams for the people that had never trusted him or his judgment or go to the man that wanted to kill him and pray to whatever mercy that are on the heavens for the man to accept him.

And he, being the impulsive, rash teen he'd always been, chose the latter.

Of course, he knew that it was utterly insane to try his luck with Tom at that time, but he didn't care in the least. After all if was going to die, let him die by the hand of the man that he unwillingly (at that time) felt a certain amount of attraction towards. Yes, he'd always had a masochist streak.

He shook his head in amusement. It had been insane, it was painful, mentally exhausting but he didn't regret any of it. How could he, when he had a wonderful daughter and the family he always wanted? He was snapped from his thoughts when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and pressed him tightly against the other body. He looked up into the crimson eyes that he so loved and smiled slightly.

"Good morning." Harry said, pressing his lips against Tom's soft ones.

Tom hummed his agreement as he languidly, slowly and passionately kissed him. When the need to breathe grew larger, they broke apart, panting slightly. The red eyed male smirked roguishly as he tightened his arms around him. He then hissed silkily:

_: Good morning, dragostea mea: _

_: Did you sleep alright? : _Harry asked as he slowly kissed his husband's neck.

:_ Mhmm…Wonderful. :_

Harry smirked against the man's flesh, making a shiver run down Tom's spine. He continued kissing the delectable column of flesh that was before him and when he was sure that things were going to get further, a small pop echoed in the room. With a groan Tom let go of him and slumped back onto his pillow with a scowl on his face. He turned his face to the side and then snapped to the tearful house-elf: "This better be very important, Rena."

"Oh master, sir, something terrible happened!" the little elf cried between sobs, big, fat tears rolling down its cheeks.

"What is it? Spit it out, you filthy elf!"

The elf nodded frantically, her long ears flapping comically on her little head, while the poor creature sorrowfully looked at them with its big, round green eyes full of tears. "R-Rena was making sure breakfast was ready b-before going to check on young mistress A-Annamaria b-but as Rena was preparing to l-leave, the snakey Cato came to the kit-chens. Rena found this odd, be-because Cato is always with mistress Annamaria. C-Cato seemed restless so Rena took Cato and popped into y-young m-m-m-mistress Annamaria's room…Oh!"

Rena broke down into sobs once again and both males shared a worried look. They knew that this particular elf was very cheerful, extremely so. So it was very rare to see the small elf cry her eyes out like this. It was extremely worrisome for she rarely cried, never really, and when she did it was usually because of something that concerned his dear Annamaria…

Harry's green eyes widened in alarm and worry. Had something happened? Had something happened to his little girl? In an instant Harry frantically got out of bed, not caring in the littlest bit that he was utterly and completely naked, and went to stand in front of the sobbing elf.

He took the elf's shoulders and then said in worry: "What happened? Tell me what happened."

The elf looked up at him and when it saw his frantic worry, burst out crying harder. Dread started to grip his heart. This was not Rena's normal behavior. Something is terribly wrong…Harry felt panic bubbling up his throat, his eyes filled with tears as millions of possible case scenarios flashed on his mind.

In a high pitch voice full of desperation he demanded, "What happened!? Tell me, tell me what happened, Rena!"

"Mistress Annamaria be gone! She be not in her room! Rena can't find her anywhere!" the elf finally cried in a hysterical shriek.

Harry and Tom froze, not quite able to believe what they were hearing. Harry let go of the still crying elf as if burned and stumbled a few steps back in shock, feeling as the words slowly clicked into place. Once his brain was able to process the words, a small frantic scream tore its way out of his mouth. He didn't want to believe it. It was only a big, nasty prank someone pulled, it must be! His baby was fine; she was only hiding somewhere in the manor. Probably waiting for someone to find her or pranking Peter. Yes, that must be it! His daughter was completely fine! She was not gone, she was not!

With a jerk of his wrist, Harry made a robe appear on him and without wasting a second he sprinted out of the room. He went down the hall and stopped in front of the third door from his room and tore the door open. He stumbled his way in and stopped in the middle of the room.

_Nothing. Empty. _

Sorrow gripped his heart in an iron hold and he searched the whole room. _Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. _

He called his house elves and sent them to search the whole manor. He wanted them to check every corner, every room, every little placed they could find. His daughter must be hiding somewhere, yes that was it. She was simply playing a game. It _must_ be a game. Tears gathered on his eyes as he anxiously waited for his elves to return.

Poi, the Head elf of the manor, popped into the room and Harry quickly grasped the tiny shoulders. He shook him slightly, begging for answers with his emerald eyes. The elf looked up at him with saddened, grey eyes and shook his head from side to side. Poi gently placed his wrinkly hand on his cheek and then said in a teary voice: "I'm sorry, my master." And with that, the old elf disappeared, leaving him alone once again.

A pain filled scream escaped his lips as he crumpled on the floor, tears running down his cheeks. Sobs wrecked his body mercilessly, making his chest, his heart, his very soul ache with the unbearable loss. His world was shattered brutally right in front of his eyes as the harsh slap of the truth finally hit him in the face. His baby was gone. His precious, precious daughter was gone. She was not here with him to gift him a warm smile, to hug him in the mornings, to kiss his cheek. She was not here to laugh at his lame jokes or take classes with Severus. She was not here to tell him how yucky broccoli was or to prank Peter. She was gone! Gone, gone, gone.

A piece of his soul was gone, gone like the wind, for who knows where. Was it only yesterday that he had held her tiny body in his arms? Was it really the last time she was going to tell him 'I love you'? He felt incomplete, lost and so utterly alone. He felt hollow, as if his soul had died inside of his very body. The perfect picture that was his life was now marred by the bitter taste of sorrow. He needed his daughter to feel alive, to keep on going. She was his air, his very life. Without her he couldn't keep on going…Life lost its meaning if she was not there.

"No..." someone behind him whispered but he ignored it completely.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms embraced him tightly. Harry looked up and buried his face on the strong chest of Tom, sobbing hysterically as he mumbled brokenly. "She's gone, Tom…my baby's not here! No, no, no! ANNAMARIA!"

"Shh, dragostea mea, shh. I'll find her, I promise to you. She'll be with us soon, you'll see. She's…she's alright. I'll fi-find her." Tom said, not being able to hide the crack in his voice in the end.

Harry merely sobbed harder and tightened his hold on him. Tom looked down at his crying husband and he vowed that he was going to do anything in his power to find his daughter. No matter if that was the last thing he did in this bloody world.

* * *

_Eleven years later_

**April 1****st****, 2020**

_**The Dark Lord's daughter, still Missing After Eleven Years of Searching! **_

_For most of us, this is a common day, but for the Riddle Potter family today is a day of mourning. Yes, this same day, eleven years ago, the only daughter of our Minister, Tom Riddle, and his husband, Harry Riddle nee Potter has been missing. Ever since then, search parties had been looking for any sign or clue that would tell them where she could be, but none had been found. These search parties had searched all the Wizarding communities in Europe with hopes to find her, but unfortunately, nothing that could indicate her whereabouts had been found. _

_Harry Riddle, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived and the husband of the Minister, expressed deep sorrow on the matter: _

"_The disappearance of our daughter eleven years ago has been a big blow to our family. The only thing I wish is for her to be found. That is all I ever wanted. It pains me to know that there is no clue about the whereabouts of my daughter, not in magical parts of Europe or in the Occidental part of the world. It is very painful for me to hear my five year old son ask me where his sister is and not knowing what to answer him."_

_Our Minister of Magic, Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, had been on this case ever since that horrid day. He is incessantly looking for his daughter nonstop and if the rumors are true, he is planning on sending his Death Eaters to America in order to search for her in their magical community. When asked, the Minister expressed great anger when inquired about the disappearance of his daughter and with these words he warned whoever dared take away his precious girl: _

"_I do not know who would do such a thing, especially to a child of a fellow wizard, but heed my words: I will find whoever did this and I will kill them in the most painful, slow way I am capable of. I will make sure whoever it is regret having taken my daughter away from me, from my husband and from my family. I will hunt them down and I will not cease until I find who is behind this. And when I find the person or persons responsible for taking our daughter away, I will make them pay." _

_I do not know about you, but I totally agree with our Minister. Wizarding children are very precious and are in need of a magically stabilized home in order to grow up with healthy magic and a happy life. By taking their daughter away they have endangered the child's magic and health greatly and we cannot know of the consequences this act had left on the girl until she is found and returned to her rightful place._

_And I ask to myself: What kind of wizard would dare touch someone's child and take them away from their families? Who would dare bestow that kind of pain to anyone, regardless of who it might be? Is this the kind of people Britain is developing within is core? I do not know that answers for this questions, but I am sure of one thing: _

_The person that is capable of such a thing deserves the greatest of pain._

* * *

A/N: Hello again. Hope you all are having a nice February. A bit of an emotional chapter, my eyes watered when I wrote this. *sniff sniff* Well, hope you're enjoying this as much as I am. :33 Some might think that eleven years is a very exaggerated time but I know what me is doing...maybe. . Bai bai anyways! x3


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five:**

"_After being taken away from everything she knew so well, her life was never the same. She had to learn how to accept her fate and embrace it, as a man who gently embraced his beloved partner."_

* * *

**July 8****th**** 2020.**

In the dark corner she was currently hiding, she could see everything without being spotted. This was, by far, the quietest place in this abominable pub full of filthy muggles that wanted to satiate their sexual frustrations, idiotic fantasies or simply be mentally stimulated by someone far smarter than they were. Every corner was bustling with activity, whether it was sexual or not, it didn't actually matter. It was so very sickening and disgusting either way.

She couldn't believe that she was to be used in such a way once again…A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about it. No matter how many years had passed ever since the abuse had started, she just couldn't help but feel utterly dirty and simply humiliated.

The unwanted caresses…the brutal kisses…the sultry whispered words on her ears…the pain of being unwillingly, brutally and savagely taken over and over again without any type of consideration, guilt or mercy. The burn of the whip as it clashed with her skin…The endless torture of being placed under the Cruciatus Curse and numerous of dark spells for who knows how many minutes and times…the humiliation of having the words _'slut' _and _'abomination'_ carved onto her skin, a constant reminder of her personal Hell.

Her fists clenched tightly as the memories assaulted her mind mercilessly, leaving her breathless and shaking.

Her world had always being black and her pleas had never been answered, not by a person or by another worldly deity. She was completely alone, with no friends or family to care for her whatsoever. Her eyes gazed down at her hands and with teary eyes full of self hatred she noted, once again, that she was scarred. Scarred by the very same blade that had scared her virgin skin all those years ago.

Stunning crimson eyes narrowed in sudden blazing anger. She hated her captors with a passion, she hated the muggles who made her relieve every single unwanted memory and she absolutely abhorred the parents that were once hers for leaving her with these monsters for no reason at all. Her pale, small hands clenched in her fury and she vowed that she was going to make them all as soon as she escaped the hell hole she was in.

Her life was like a horrible nightmare but without any type of comfort.

No…that was not true. She had a friend…her only friend. Her one and only consolation and shoulder to rest upon when she felt tired or emotionally weak. Yes, she had Donatello. Her lovely, amazing Donatello.

A small smile graced her lips as she thought about him. Donatello had never hurt her, not even when the other two tortured her and…and raped her ever since she was ten. He had always stood to the side and watched the proceedings with sorrowful eyes and a stoic mask on his face. But she understood his reasons for not helping her while they molested her. Nevertheless he was the only one who took care of her wounded and broken body when the other two were sleeping. He taught her things, many things. Spells and history, wizarding customs and politics and when she was younger he was the one who taught her how to improve her writing. Not only had the man taught her and helped her develop everything she knew today, he had also helped her emotionally.

Alas, to her the man was like an angel. A very supportive, nice and handsome angel.

The man suddenly appeared in front of her, as if called by her mere thought, and he gave her a warm smile. She smiled back without hesitation and then quirked an eyebrow in question. Donatello's smile turned sheepish and he shot her an apologetic glance.

The man took a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself for an unending battle and then said in heavily accented English and with a slight grimace on his face, "Merope, I'm sorry about this, I really am. I tried to dissuade the old man to choose another one but he was rather…insistent. Mr. Dursley, the old hag, wants you tonight."

An annoyed growl instantly escaped her lips as she glared daggers at Donatello. She crossed her arms across her chest and huffed angrily.

"Yes, I know Merope. You hate the man, as do I. He's a filthy muggle, very unpleasant too but if you don't do this Lancelot will find out and he'll hurt you. I-I don't want to see you hurt anymore…So, please?" Donatello pleaded quietly, looking at her. They stared at each other for a long while and when he thought that her outstanding and never ending stubbornness was going to win on this matter, she gave him a jerky nod. The man sighed in relief and she saw as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly in relief. Her eyes softened and a small smile appeared once again on her full lips. Without uttering a word, she reached the man and softly caressed the man's cheek with her small hand. Immediately, the man leaned into her touch and heaved a contented sigh as he closed his eyes. He gently grasped her hand in his and brought it to his soft lips, softly kissing her palm.

Her crimson eyes softened even more at that. One of the many things she liked about Donatello was that he was always so gentle with her, no matter what. It made her feel warm inside and that worried her a bit. He always made her feel like that…always, but she didn't know why that was. Was it normal to feel like that? She didn't know. All she knew was that he filled the emptiness she always felt. He filled his heart and life with such gentle warmth and she liked that he was able to make her feel something other than the pain that always filled her days. It was, to say the least, the most pleasant thing she's got.

Donatello opened his brown eyes and gifted her with another smile and a kiss to her hand. Her face got a bit red and his smiled widened a bit at that. He kissed it one more time and let go of her. He straightened up and dusted some imaginary dirt from his button down black shirt.

He cleared his throat, shot her another smile and then said: "Well, I guess we should get going. Don't want to make the whale of a man wait long."

Nodding, she straightened her back and squared her shoulder. A stoic, cold mask of indifference settled on her beautiful pixie face as she looked down at herself and quickly, but efficiently, fixed her extremely short dress. A slight scowl made itself known as she did this and she suddenly had an urge to rip the revealing thing Zacharias called a dress off her body. It was so uncomfortable and it showed so much of her body…it made her uneasy to wear it.

She shook her head, clearing it of unwanted thoughts and when she was ready she looked up at Donatello and nodded her head firmly. He nodded his head in encouragement, grabbed her hand and started walking her towards the table in where her most despised costumer waited.

As soon as she got there, Vernon Dusrsley's beady eyes looked over her as if she were a piece of meat and his eyes flashed with desire. A shudder ran down her spine in disgust. How was it that she attracted this much attention, she being all scarred and so damaged? The Dursley whale snapped his beady eyes onto her crimson ones and he gave her what he thought was a seductive smile. She narrowed her eyes and sneered, her anger flaring dramatically.

"Dursley, you'll have your time with her and I suggest that you don't do anything stupid. If you do…" Donatello gave the man a threatening smirk, "you'll surely remember it for what is left of your pathetic life."

The whale pale dramatically at the threat and then he spluttered indignantly, turning an interesting shade of purple. She idly wondered in what other painful ways she could make the muggle get that purple shade. She wondered about that for a few minutes but her thoughts were interrupted when the whale spoke once again in his disgusting gruff voice.

"You shouldn't worry, she's in good hands. I assure you that she is." The man smiled, making his huge, grey mustache twitch uncontrollably for a few seconds. She could have laughed if the man wasn't so annoying. For a fleeting moment she wished that she was with someone else. Someone far more polite, interesting and not as disgusting as the whale of a man in front of her. But she'd just had to bear with his presence for who knows how long.

"Humph." Was the only answer Donatello gave. He glared at the man, smiled at her and left.

As soon as Donatello left, the whale grabbed her arm and yanked her to his lap. She stiffened as his beefy hand slowly caressed her thigh while his other hand tightly grasped her waist, successfully preventing her from leaving. Oh, she knew that she could blast the man away with a single spell, kill him too, but it was too risky for her. If she did and Lancelot or the bitch knew that she had made magic they'll kill her. She was sure of it. So she had to put up with unwanted caresses and inane, boring chatter for a long while.

It was torture, pure torture what she had to endure. The man was the epitome of all that was muggle and extremely boring. His views on things were so black and white it was giving her a mind blowing headache. He was so utterly disgusting in every little thing he did, to sitting on the couch and letting his wife do everything, to his equally pathetic family. Besides being so extremely boring and pathetic, the man kept toughing her…caressing her and pressing his wet, slimy mouth on her skin.

It burned…everything he did to her burned.

With every sloppy kiss given to her scarred skin, she felt herself dying a little bit more. She could feel it in her very soul. With every caress and with every whispered word. It was painful having to endure that torture without pushing the man away and cursing his very entrails out of his body. She wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting her. She wanted him to suffer…

_But she couldn't do anything._

It was her punishment for being born, she knew. Donatello said that it wasn't true, but why would they leave her if she was wanted? Why would they dump her in this place in where people could hurt her not only physically, but mentally too? There was nothing for her in this world, but this. There was no one for her either, no one she could call her own. Everything she had always wanted or dreamed of was never going to come true. She was simply an object, Lancelot was right. An object people took pleasure on seeing and touching. She hated him too, Lancelot. He was always right, and she hated it. It was as if Fate itself was mocking her by slapping her in the face repeatedly every time the man was right. _The bitch._

Why was this happening to her? Why her? What had she done to deserve this? She hadn't done anything, anything at all. Yet here she was, treated as if she was no more than a pretty object to be collected. She hated everyone. She was so tired of hating…she wanted something different. To love…or to simply sleep forever and never wake up. Yes, that'd be nice. To forget everything, to see no more, to not to breathe or feel or need. She wanted to be no more, like a soul that passes on.

She wanted —no- _needed_ to be free.

Her patience was running thin, anger was calmly but steadily filling her being and that was never a good sign. It was a matter of time before she snapped and did something drastic and she was awaiting it with open arms and eagerness. Her small hands clenched and unclenched themselves and she gritted her teeth as hard as she could to prevent a snarl of fury from escaping her mouth.

The man was still chattering away, too absorbed in his boring life to know what was happening but that was not relevant to her. The man seemed to notice her lack of attention and scowled deeply. He harshly grasped her small face in his meaty hand and snarled in anger, "Are you listening to me, dolly?"

But she was not paying attention, for as soon as their eyes met, a sharp stab of pain on her head made her vision get fuzzy. Without understanding how or why, she started to see a scene flashing before her eyes.

_She was there, but younger looking and spitting mad while a pudgy bald man, resembling a rat, held her face harshly with his bony hand. He squeezed her cheeks rather painfully and the man smirked sadistically down at her, clearly enjoying the pain he was bestowing on her. _

"_Do tell your daddy and it will be more pain for you, Annamaria." He said his smirk widening. _

_Her red eyes narrowed in anger at the threat. No one, lest of that entire idiot, talked to her like that. She grabbed the man's front robes and yanked him forward bringing their faces closer and then spat with abhorrence clear as day in her pretty face: "I assure you, rat that the one bearing the pain would be you. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday I'll make sure you scream for my mercy." _

_The man squealed in shock and fright as he stumbled back and fell on his butt. His beady black eyes looking up at her full of hatred, worry and fear. She sneered down at him, kicked him and left the man without glancing once back. _

With a startled gasp, she pushed Vernon's hand away from her face harshly and stumbled a few feet away from his gigantic, balloon like body. Her crimson eyes were wide and slightly glazed as he stared at the whale while trying to comprehend what had just happened. Her body was shaking and her brain tried to come up with some plausible explanation but nothing came up. It had been so unexpected and so utterly surprising…Who was Annamaria? The whale opened his mouth to say something but at that moment, Merlin bless him, Donatello came and told her that she had another client.

She nodded absentmindedly before letting herself be dragged away by a frowning Donatello. He took her away from prying eyes and looked her over with concerned brown eyes. Neither spoke a word. After a while, Donatello gently grasped her face in between his big, soft hands and pierced her crimson eyes with his worried brown gaze.

His eyes widened a bit before a pleased smile appeared on his soft looking lips. He then caressed her cheek lovingly, leaning in as he did so. She was sure that the man was going to kiss her and she stiffened instantly, but Donatello surprised her when he simply rested his cheek on hers. They stood like that for a few minutes, both feeling each other's enticing and comforting warmth.

"Don't worry, my love, you'll remember everything soon. And when you do, you must forgive me, love." Donatello whispered softly on her ear, his warm breath making a small shiver run down her spine.

"W-What-?" Her softly murmured whisper was interrupted when the man suddenly stepped back from her and gave her one of his famous radiant smiles. Uncertainty, she smiled back faintly but before she could ask him about his weird statement, he grasped her hand and quickly led her towards her new client. A frown had settled on her face as she tried to make sense of his friend's eerie statement. She shook her head, clearing it from confusing thoughts.

Donatello stopped and she, absorbed in her thoughts as she was, slammed into the man's back with a soft _'ompff'_. He looked over his shoulder and smirked in amusement, making her blush in embarrassment.

While Donatello talked with the client she had yet to see, she tried, quite unsuccessfully might I add, to place an indifferent expression on her face. Admittedly, it was harder this time. She was shaken by what she had seen and utterly embarrassed by having slammed, no matter how softly, against Donatello. She knew he didn't mind, but it was still mortifying nevertheless. The man had smirked in amusement! Because of her! Merlin, she was so utterly pathetic, especially around the man.

Taking a deep breath, she finally managed to get her expression right, just when her friend stepped to the side. Afraid to see another dirty, perverted old man, she slowly looked up her fringe, only to stop dead in her tracks.

Her crimson eyes widened as she looked at the man that was in front of her. Her indifferent expression crumbled for a bit, revealing her gaping mouth and shocked expression, as she took in the man, not quite believing what her eyes were seeing. The man was not a wrinkly, old man as she expected him to be. He was the total, complete opposite of old. He was a tall man, not wrinkly like a prune at all and his skin was pale but had a healthy glow. His hair was shoulder length and black and it was tied back with a ribbon, thing that made him look rather manly. His features were sharp and handsome and he sported a pair of beautiful dark green eyes which were looking at her with intensity. His lips were of a pale pink in color, brutally contrasting with the darkness of his hair and eyes.

The green eyed male's lips quirked upwards into a small smile and she felt her heart skip a beat. The man could be a model, she knew, for he was so outstandingly beautiful. He was so very stunning that she couldn't really believe it, yet he was still in front of her. But even though his physical appearance was stunning it wasn't that that made her curious of the man. No, it was the man's magic and his alluring powerful aura.

His powerful aura slowly, seductively caressed her showing skin, making little goose bumps rise on her arms, making the little hair of her neck stand on end. It was breath taking. She had never felt something this…this powerful in her life. It felt so very enticing, incredibly soft, comforting and strangely enough, familiar. She felt safe in the man's presence and knowing so, worried her a lot.

After a long while of staring had issued, the man, with the small smile still on his pale face, gave a low bow and then said in a soft, silky voice that seemed to echo in her brain,

"Hello, my lady, I really do hope that we can make each other company tonight, for I am honored to be in your presence."

Before she could react, the man swiftly grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. _Softly kissing it._

* * *

**A/N**: _Aloha~ Happy first of March my people! :DD Guess who's back~? Yes, yes, I know. Finally! I'm a very mean person, making her go through all that...*sniff sniff* Oh well, shit happens! Chapter six is ready so I guess I'm going to post it when chapter eight is ready, maybe chapter nine? Please tell me what you think and ask me if you have any questions~ ^w^ Woot woot! _

_Thanks to all the hundred thirty something of people that had viewed this shet! VwV Arigato! _

_Oh yeah, I forgot to put in the last chapter this: :parseltongue: _


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six:**

"_Not only was it extremely hard on your grandmother, it was also very hard on Grandpa Tom and Grandpa Harry…After all, a parent is nothing with its child. They felt, extremely, unbelievably, empty without their daughter, which is completely understandable…" _

"_After all that time?" the awe filled voice of a little girl inquired. _

"_Yes after all that time. You see, you can't actually make a blind man stop seeing the only light he sees. Of course, it's only metaphorical since blind men can't really see…"_

* * *

**July 8****th**** 2020**

**Riddle Manor**

The sound of a child laughing gleefully echoed in the surprisingly light manor, making the atmosphere feel light and not all that tense and oppressing. One of the occupants of the room smiled pleasantly and made himself even more comfortable in the plush, soft cushion he was resting on. A small, sad looking house elf popped into the quiet room and softly placed a tea tray with a small platter of chocolate biscuits on the little table that separated them, making the room smell of the fragrant, sweet scent of their drink. As soon as the elf popped away, they swiftly prepared their drink as they liked, neither interrupting the nice, comfortable silence enveloping them.

Taking a sip of the warm drink, they both sighed simultaneously. A smirk appeared on their lips but it soon disappeared as the weight of their never ending stress and the never gone sadness mounted on their shoulders.

"Harry…" the soft voice resounded in the room. "Are you alright?"

The green eyed male looked up, the tea cup still clasped delicately in between his pale, slightly shaking hands. The man gave a slightly forced smile but soon dropped it, sighing as he placed his cup down on the small table. He ran a hand through his messy, black hair and looked up once again. "I'm just…it's just that...I miss her so much, Remus. What-What if she's already— I won't bear it if she's—"

Harry suddenly stopped talking. His eyes were steadily filling with tears and the amber eyed werewolf suddenly felt a pang of sorrow at the sight. He remembered having met the girl only once, but she had left a very good impression on him. He had wanted to get closer to her, to get to know her and be like an uncle to her. But then…then that tragedy happened. He knew that he'd never be able to forget the sorrow stricken face of his cub. The pain had been too raw and so incredibly strong. He guessed that that was what parents felt when their child was hurt or deeply damaged.

A soft, inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he watched how Harry slowly managed to pull himself together. He waited until then to speak and try to comfort his cub. When he knew it was safe to speak, he placed his hand on his cub's knee and then said softly, "Cub, I know you miss her but haven't you thought that if you have never switched sides this wouldn't had happened and she would—"

"No, Remus, how can you even say that? If I haven't switched sides I wouldn't have met the love of my life! I wouldn't have married Tom and I wouldn't have had Annamaria for six years, raising her, loving her! I wouldn't have my boy! You would have preferred I stayed in the Light side, where they were using me so that I could die in the end while I disposed of Tom?! In where they didn't told me any important information regarding what I had to do and expected me to do them without knowing what I was getting myself into? To stay with the very people that would rather rid themselves of a Dark Lord by killing me, a teenager at that time, instead of wanting me to have everything I've ever dreamed of having?! To stay with the same people that had shunned me when I needed them most!? Is that what you wanted? Is it!?" Harry exclaimed hysterically, tears running down his cheeks in anger and pain.

Remus shook his head no, never taking his amber eyes away from the angered male in front of him. "I-I apologize, Harry. I understand why you did what you did and I did not want you to get upset. I was simply asking but, never mind. I know that you've always wanted a family and now you have it. I'm glad for you, cub. But I don't want you to concern yourself too much, it will make you sick."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded stiffly. He sagged against his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression turning somber and sad in an instant. "I know that Remy. But how could I not? Every night I have dreams of what could possibly be done to her…of what could be happening and when I wake up—I just want her with me, with her family. That is all I ever wanted."

The wolf nodded silently and then quite suddenly smiled as a small boy entered the room with a huge smile on his face. Harry quickly arranged his expression to a warm one as the young boy threw himself on him to give him a hug.

"I love you papa."

"I love you too, Cicero."

"Have you found anything?"

A cold, menacing voice asked the three Death Eaters standing before him. The three figures gulped nervously as a shiver ran down their spines. They knew that the man was not in a good mood, if the way his crimson eyes were flashing in anger was anything to go by. The three wizards looked at each other, uncertain. Finally, Rodolphus Le'Strange took a few steps forward and bowed down low.

"No, my Lord, we haven't found any clue regarding mistress Annamaria in Berlin, Japan nor in Germany…we believe that she is near—"

The man's nervous voice soon turned into high pitch screams that echoed in the room eerily. The two other wizards were looking down at their fallen comrade with wide eyes, not quite understanding what had happened to him. Rodolphus was on the floor, writhing uncontrollably as his screams got incredibly loud and full of anguish. His limbs jerked and twisted in gruesome ways, making him look as if he were possessed.

Voldemort, on the other hand, was standing up; his wand pointed at the writhing wizard in a calm, graceful manner. Yet, his eyes were flashing with barely contained anger, his lips twisted into a feral sneer. The man jerked his wand once more and cancelled the spell, only to walk slowly towards his three followers. He looked like a panther watching his prey, waiting for the right moment to strike. The Dark Lord stopped once he was standing in front of the two standing wizards, right besides the fallen wizard.

He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms across his chest, looking nonchalant and dangerous as he did so. "So what you're telling me is that after I gave you six months so you could look and search Berlin, Japan _and _Germany, you come back to me empty handed, telling me that you have found not even one, _tiny_ clue that could tell you anything about her or suspects? Nothing at all?"

"N-No, my lord! We believe that she is not outside of Europe. A-According to our research, it seems that only two countries would want to take revenge on you, my lord. We, we believe that maybe the French and the Italians could be behind it all, but—"

"But you don't have the sufficient proof to actually tell me who exactly the one behind all of this is." Voldemort stated lowly, his arms still crossed.

The wizards flinched as if slapped, heads bowed in shame and in fright. And Voldemort, being in the bad mood he was because the lack of information, stood up and in a flash, a curse slipping from his lips, the three males were on the floor, screaming and writhing.

"You incompetent fools!" Voldemort roared in anger, "I want you to go back and search for her in and clues and kill those who get in your way! NO MORE INCOMPETENCE OR YOUR DEAD! Do you hear me?!"

Voldemort lifted the curse and looked down his nose at his three trembling followers. With one last glare full of murderous intent, he demanded to be left alone and his followers didn't need to be told twice. Without daring to look at the fuming wizard, they disapparated away without a word.

Once the three wizards were gone, Voldemort ran a hand through his wavy hair in agitation. He stood there, looking at nothing in particular before a dry, almost feral, smirk appeared on his pale lips. _: It seems that…I shall better do things my way…on my own. Yes, I shall take things into my own hands. :_

* * *

**July 8****th**** 2020**

_**The House of Pleasure**_

The green eyed male smiled at her for the umpteenth time since he had asked for her a few hours ago. The man was…odd, that was for sure and Merope didn't know if he was a wizard. Something told her that he was not, at least not completely. There was something about him that set her on edge but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

For the last few hours, the man had been asking her questions, questions she didn't have an answer to. The man seemed not to care though, for he kept chattering away cheerfully, not caring in the least that she was seated in complete silence. She was feeling quite exasperated, honestly, since the man was making her go insane with his inane chatter but in the other hand she felt oddly comforted by the random things that spewed from his lips.

"What is your favorite color?" Silence. "Oh never mind that, mine is emerald green. It reminds me of the forests and everything pure…It is sad now that I realized that I've never really paid attention to it before. Such a pity actually. Do you like flowers?"

Out of the many questions he had asked, that was the weirdest one. No one had ever asked her about her favorite flower. They mostly asked how old she was and if she already had lost her virginity, which, unfortunately, had been taken from her by force. She tilted her head to the side and looked at him with a mix of wonder and disbelief on her pixie face. In silence, she studied the model like male that was seating in front of her, waiting patiently for some kind of answer. He seemed to be genuinely curious and that is what possibly made her answer hesitantly with a small shrug.

The green eyed male seemed delighted by her rather small response, thing that almost made her smile in amusement. _Almost._ His eyes sparkled in curiosity and interest. "Have you seen a flower? No? Well, you are a lucky girl!"

The man looked around their table, making sure that no one was looking at them before taking a long, wooden stick that she realized was a wand. Unwittingly, she leaned forward a bit, watching the man's hands and actions with interest. He then grabbed a napkin with his free hand and gently caressed it with his wand. His eyes fleetingly met hers and with one last smile he proceeded to swish his wand over the napkin in shot, jerky movements. And Merope saw, right before her eyes, how the pearly white napkin transformed into a white colored type of flower.

Her eyes were wide as she saw the bit of magic the man preformed, never having witnessed something so beautiful yet seemingly simple. The flower was beautiful indeed, the white petals were soft looking and glowing in a soft light and the stem was a vibrant green and full of beautiful leaves.

Swiftly, the man pocketed his wand and watched as his beautiful companion seemed dazzled by the delicate thing he'd conjured. With a few mumbled words, the man finished his work. He cleared his throat slightly, successfully catching the girl's wide eyed attention.

"This I am holding is called a rose." He said softly, his eyes shining as he took the girl in. "It is one of the most beautiful flowers in the world and the white color this one has, represents the pureness of the one holding it. What gives this flower the uniqueness is the soft petals and the unique, nearly glowing color but what makes it fascinating, is the soft scent emanating from this beauty. Enticingly sweet and lulling, like the most beautiful of songs ever made. I…charmed this rose so it can be with you until you want I, looking like this for as long as you can and it will only wither whenever you're in great peril. I…"

The man hesitated as he gazed at Merope with his intense emerald stare. After a while neither spoke and when the man seemed to be sure of himself he nodded slightly and offered the beautiful flower to Merope, who hesitantly grabbed the precious thing in her delicate, scarred hand.

Once the flower was being held carefully in her hand, the man stood up and walked around the table until he was standing right before her. He gave her a low bow, smiling as he did so. Still in the bow he took her small hand in his and placed a lingering kiss on her pale knuckles.

As soon as his lips separates from her soft yet scarred flesh, Donatello appeared by their table suddenly and he says in a low, quiet voice that his time was up. The man straightened up and fixed his clothing while shooting her one last smile.

"Goodnight to both of you and it has been a pleasure, my lady." With that, the man walked away, soon disappearing as if he were nothing more than a ghost. Merope simply stared at the crowd of people that were near the door, her eyed wide with shock and wonder clear in their red depth.

Donatello wordlessly steered her away towards her room as he worriedly thought about the man that had obviously left a very strong impression on the girl he had grown to love over the years. He looked down at her and a small frown marred his handsome face when he saw the slight dazzled expression she had.

He wondered worriedly what he would do if that unknown man managed to sway the unreachable heart of the one and only, Annamaria Merope Riddle.

* * *

**A/N: Hello again. I hope you are having a wonderful Easter Break! I hope you enjoyed this and heheheheh, do you know who the handsome green eyed male is? Do you, do you? **

**I will tell you...IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! xDD wujuuuuu! I am in the midst of writing chapter eight, wish me luck, eh? I think that this is turning out to be a rather awesome story, if I say so myself. ^w^ Thanks for reading this~ **


	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings: Violence and implied rape.**

**I do not own Harry Potter. **

* * *

**Chapter seven:**

"_Weeks passed, her life was bleak and like in every story, her prince charming is going to play a big role in her life. After all, us men are the greatest race." _

"_Men the bigger race? Don't let mum hear you say that, Uncle Alek" the little girl scoffed and crossed her arms. Then, after a few seconds she squealed in excitement. "A prince charming!? Oh, how romantic!"_

_He chuckled a bit in amusement, leaning back on his chair, "Yes her prince charming; but let's just say that if t weren't for his outstanding wit he nearly wouldn't have made it."_

* * *

**August 6****th**** 2020 **

She is sitting on her springy bed full of random drop of blood here and there. Upstairs, Lancelot was yelling loudly at someone in fluent Italian, throwing things and stomping around in his temper as he did so. Her worries increased all the more when the crashing and yelling turned up in volume, for she knew that things were not going to be looking good for her in the end. But instead of worrying about her very probable near future, she decided to think back on the weeks that the green eyed man had come to visit her. Her mind, focused on her latest memory of the intriguing man with a small, slightly worried, smile on her full lips.

'_She had been hiding in her usual spot, a small, dark corner that hid her from view yet allowed her to see everyone without been spotted easily. The man entered the pub and his green eyes immediately found her. He shot her a warm smile and Merope gave a slight smile as she burrowed further into the darkness. The green eyed male gracefully stepped up besides her, still smiling as he did so. _

_The man then turned to face her and caressed her face softly with his long, graceful fingers. She couldn't help the blush of embarrassment and mortification that rose on her cheeks. He kept caressing her face until his fingers slowly, but surely, made their way to the pale column of her neck. A shiver ran down her spine. When his soft hands softly yet firmly grasped the back of her neck a violent shiver coursed through her, hands shaking, though she didn't know if it was from fright or something else. Nevertheless she closed her stunning eyes tight, expecting the worst. _

_When after a few minutes nothing happened, she slowly opened her eyes._

_Only to come face to face with dark emerald eyes shining softly with something akin to pity. He had a sad smile on his lips as he looked at her. Her crimson eyes flashed slightly in anger but it was soon gone when the man gently grabbed her hand and placed it on her neck, where a delicate necklace was resting. With slowly widening eyes she looked down at it, only to notice that the delicate necklace bore a small silver and green snake at the end. She looked up quickly at the man, eyes still wide with wonder and shock, as her slightly trembling hand fingered the small snake. _

_The man simply smiled warmly and leant forward until their noses and foreheads were touching, their warm breath hitting their faces in a soft like breeze. He then laughed softly and said in a low voice that only she could hear: _

"_I just happen to ah, like you a lot…Only speak my name when you need me and it'll take you to where I am. Always." _

_She opened her mouth to say something but the man placed one silencing finger on her lips and the whispered something softly in her ear. Her eyes widened all the more when the man started to lean into her, closing the very little space that separated them and brushed his pale pink lips with hers, sending an electric shock through her body. _

_Slowly, reluctantly, the man leaned back, looking as if he were in a slight daze. After a few moments of silence, the man nodded sharply at her, turned on his heel and left. Leaving her looking at his retreating back.' _

The young woman fleetingly wondered why the man left so suddenly after he had started that near kiss. Maybe it was her…she shook her head. Not wanting to think about it. Her pale fingers reached up to touch her soft lips and smiled slightly when she remembered the feeling of the man's lips on hers, no matter how fleeting it had been she still felt that odd shock that ran through her body.

The question of why had the man given her the beautiful necklace was still fresh in her mind, a week after the near kiss incident. As far as she knew, no one had given her something without wanting something in return and she wondered what, exactly, did the man wanted from her?

The thought somehow made her chest constrict in the weirdest of ways, making her frown in confusion. _'I must be getting sick, perhaps,'_ she thought. A small, dreamy sigh escaped her lips, Lancelot and his now silent screams long forgotten. He was so different from the type of person that usually spoke to her, so different that it shocked her.

Her train of thought was suddenly interrupter when the door of her small room slammed open, startling her out of her musing. In came a livid looking Lancelot and a smug looking Bianca. But before she could react or make a word, she was roughly pushed back.

Lancelot then started screaming insanely, his light blue eyes were alight with enraged hate and disdain as he did so. "You insolent bitch, good for nothing cunt! How dare you deny the wealthiest muggle sex! Do you know any idea of the trouble you're in!? We could've been rich by now if it weren't for your stupidity! And guess fucking what? Donatello is not here to save you this time!"

As he yelled, she tried to blend in with the wall that was harshly pressing in her back, her panic raising in an alarmingly fast rate with every passing second. The man, noticing this, seemed to lose the little bit of control he had left. And with an enraged yell, the man threw himself at the now panicking girl.

His fists smacked into her scarred flesh over and over again, breaking things, making black and blue bruises appear on her snow white skin and his sharp kicks to her torso made her ribs break; sending waves upon waves of pain through her small body. Blood soon coated her skin and his fingers and this seemingly angered him all the more.

Pain was like a thick fog of smoke in her brain, making it nearly impossible to think and feel; and among the punches, kicks, degrading yells and nearly delirious laughter a knife had joined the party and so did the excited roaming feminine hands.

Tears, sweat and lots of blood covered her small, prone form and the only thing she could think about was of how wonderful it would be to just disappear…to simply die. But dying somehow seemed wrong to her, something was telling her that she couldn't die just yet. It was nearly insane in the pain filled haze that was her brain. She wanted and out, to stop feeling, to simply go numb.

Anything!

Her tear filled eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling as they brutally damaged and used her as they pleased, not really caring if this were to be her last day on Earth. The fleeting thought of where Donatello could be crossed her mind but it was soon forgotten as another assault of unbearable pain that made her scream shot through her. She wondered also if she would even be able to say her goodbyes. It was not as if many people would miss her, but she had a few people she wanted to see, at least one last time.

Dear Donatello was one, going against his own friends to take care of her, her personal hero. Gustav, the weird old man that was always telling her stories of magical wars and the different kind of creatures that existed in the wizarding world. And then there was the green eyed man, gentle, intriguing and so full of interesting secrets to unravel. Too bad she wasn't going to be here anymore to actually know one of his secrets.

After what felt like long agonizing hours of pure fire running through her, the two demons left her alone. A small, breathy sigh of relief escaped her lips, making her eyes water when her ribs protested. For long, slow passing, minutes she simply stared at the ceiling, repeating mentally _'it's over, it's over, it's over'_ like a mantra in her brain. Hours passed like that, and it took a few more minutes for her overwhelmed brain to come up with a solution, an idea that would at least allow her to say her goodbyes to at least one of the three persons.

A slow, bloody smile stretched her lips and with a bruised, shaking hand she reached for the necklace that was on her neck. With her thumb, she slowly, languidly caressed the smooth surface of the little silver snake hoping that the man had not lied to her when he'd said that it'll take her to him in case she needed him.

Finally, with a random bout of courage, she grasped the snake as firmly as she could in her hand and whispered the name she could hear echoing in her dreams at night:

"_S-Salazar Slytherin." _

As soon as the name had slipped by her lips, an uncomfortable tug at the back of her navel was the last thing she felt before her word turned into a mesh of color and then finally, black.

* * *

_A/N: Relatively short...once again. Nevertheless, I hope you like it. So, SO!? Did you see that coming? Did you, did you!? **(Don't answer that, Sweet Bitter Life, cuz you knew who he was. xDD)** Next chappie is dones~ So, I am going to start on chapter nine and ten and when those two are ready, I shall post. :33 Thanks for reading this and following this story, I appreciate it. _

_I don't know why but I find Merope's life to be slightly similar to Harry's...in a weird way. Huh, maybe it is me. No matter. Thanks once again. And happy Easter! _

**_Oh, want an awesome Harry Potter to read? That is, if you don't mind a dark Harry and LV/HP slash, that is. It is called The Black Heir I forgot the name of the author...But hey, it is in my favorite's list. You should really go read it if you haven't! Woohoo! And the sequel too, once you finish that, Vindico Atrum... .HOOKED! HOOKED I SAY!_**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. **

* * *

**Chapter eight:**

"_Now, what would you do if you saw the person you subconsciously loved hurt or dying right in front of you?" the young adult asked seriously. _

_Surprisingly, it wasn't the girl who answered this time, thing that made the older male smile a little at the quiet boy. "I would, perhaps do anything in my power to save that person…Perhaps, try with all my might to save that one dear to me, no matter the cost or the consequences. After all, a mate for us is the most important…Forever."_

"_Exactly, kid."_

* * *

**August 6****th**** 2020. **

It was dark except for the few floating candles that gave a bit of dim lighting to the darkly decorated room. The fireplace stood unlit and right in front of the surely outstanding fireplace sat a dark green chair, occupied by the, obviously male, figure.

If one looked closely enough into the darkness one would notice the book that was held by graceful hands in front of the handsome face of the male.

At first sight, everyone who looked upon this scene would quickly deduce that the man was, indeed, reading; but upon even closer inspection, one would notice that the dark green eyes of the man were not moving and that he sported a small frown in between his shapely eyebrows.

The green eyed man heaved out a weary sigh as he closed his book with a soft sounding thud. He raised a pale hand and pressed his knuckles lightly on his pale pink lips, a thoughtful expression instantly making way to his face. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but then, in a sudden burst of confused anger the man got up and threw the book away from him, which landed pathetically on the other side of the room.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed once again but this time in exasperation. Heavily, he sat down on his chair and leaned forward until his elbows sat comfortably on his thighs. His eyes were sharp as he thought with a brooding expression on his face.

He couldn't understand…She was always on his mind, but why? What was happening and why did he get this tingly feeling in his gut every time his mind eye pictured her standing before him, dressed in a pearl white dress beckoning him towards her with a stunningly beautiful smile on her face? Her scarred skin looking beautiful under the shinning sun, her dark hair flying together with the wind and her shockingly crimson eyes alight with happiness and…was the love?

What did it mean!?

He harshly ran his hands through his hair. No matter how much he thought, not a single plausible answer came to mind. It was frustrating and…utterly _exasperating_!

His mind unwillingly replayed that time, not so long ago, in where he brushed his lips on hers. It had felt good, so unbelievably _right_ that it had shocked him to the core. The funny thing was the he had not planned on doing that…on kissing her warm soft lips fleetingly, if at all. It had been a…impulse, for a lack of a better word.

A pleasured shiver ran through his back once he recalled the warm electric shock that filled his whole being once their lips brushed. That had been deliciously intoxicating, deliriously warm and somehow soothing.

_Yes_, he had liked it. The _beast within_ him had liked it; he dared say that he loved it. It was slightly worrying, considering that he actually, _genuinely_, liked the girl. She was so different and, even in the harsh circumstances she lived in, powerful in her own right. Or at least could be powerful with a little bit more of help.

_Merope_. _Beautiful, scarred and guarded Merope._

With a small smile and looking a whole lot calmer than he felt, he got up from his chair and walked towards his discarded book. Gently, lovingly he picked it up and softly brushed the imaginary dust from it. He might not understand what was happening with this strong attraction he felt towards the red eyed young woman, but something was telling him to trust his instincts. He, grudgingly, accepted; wanting to know what would come out of it.

He started walking back towards his esteemed chair when the sudden shift of the wards made him freeze in his spot, his mind quickly supplying him with plans and coldly calculated murdered. But as soon as it happened it stopped; the wards settling back down calmly as if nothing ever happened.

Mildly curious and otherwise openly miffed at the lack of respect for his privacy, he slowly, cautiously made his way down the darkened stairs, stopping only two steps before he could reach the floor.

The first thing he noticed was the strong, delicious stench of sweet, sweet blood. His naturally dark green eyes darkened all the more, but they soon widened as he noticed the second thing, the most important and slightly worrying thing in his opinion.

_The scent. _

It was so shockingly familiar and known to him that he froze up slightly, not wanting to acknowledge the glaring facts that were staring at and slapping him right in the face. Millions of frantic questions buzzed in his mind, crazily trying to find an answer on his overly organized mind. His senses were clouded by the raising panic and the enticingly sweet smell of the blood, thing that at the moment he hated with a passion.

Perhaps it was only his imagination, result of the many years he had spent in dark solitude, not even wanting to be near those like him because…well because it felt like the same routine. Yes, that must be it. Or maybe, he had finally cracked and this was the result of him suppressing his insanity for centuries..? He really does hope so, with his very being, monstrous and human.

But, he being the person he was, needed to know for sure. He needed to know the facts straight on so he could do something about it. So, with a bit of trepidation and wariness coiling tightly in his belly, he stepped down the remaining two steps. Once that was done he carefully kneeled down, trusting his overly sensitive senses.

He summoned one of his floating candles to him and as soon as the candle stopped in front of him, flickering softly, he looked down. And his eyes widened in shock, fear, slight horror and mind numbing shock.

Every little thought, desire and coldly thought calculation flew out of the window and rolled down the stairs brutally when his eyes fell on her unmoving, black and blue form that was the object of his…desire? She was pale –paler than normal—and her usually scarred yet beautiful skin was black and purple in many areas and bleeding. Her breathing was uneven and labored, as if it gave her difficulty simply gasping a bit of air. Hey eyes and lips were swollen, horribly so, and she looked even more frail than normal.

Long jagged cuts ran down her arms, legs and torso; cuts that were most probably going to scar. They, together with the bruises, made her look like a horribly painted canvas. Shivers wracked her body at random intervals of times and sweat beaded her forehead.

With a slightly shivering hand –whether he was shivering from shock or anger, he wasn't really sure—he hesitantly reached towards her and touched her bruised cheek with a light touch. His troubled eyes widened ever so slightly in worry when he felt how extremely feverish her skin was.

He took a deep breath, with the hope of calming himself, but tensed instead. Oh, he was so going to murder somebody tonight; after he was done with taking care of her, of course. Without actually paying any mind to the murderous thoughts that were quickly forming in his mind he brandish his long forgotten wand and gave it an experimental flick over the unmoving body, a scanning charm. He felt proud of himself and smug when he noticed that he had cast the spell correctly but that smugness was short lived because as soon as he saw the results he felt a painful tug in his dead…heart?

He gulped down the sudden lump of weariness, shock, dread and infinite grief that appeared on his throat and sat down on the floor. Nervously, he ran a hand through his long ebony hair as looked at the still body with helplessness in his gaze.

The scan said that her body would not make it, due to the strong trauma she had received on her extremely damaged and wrongly healed body. It was too late. She had come to him a little too late and now he couldn't do anything to save her. Uselessness started to fill his soul, and he hated feeling useless, as he kept staring at the broken, battered figure that lay limply on his floor; hoping against hope for a, dare he say it, miracle. Something, anything!

A reckless idea started to brighten his thoughts and even though he found it extremely appalling to put her through that kind of pain and darkness, a little voice at the back of his brain reminded him that she would nonetheless live. He looked at the bruises and cuts that covered her body and decided rather quickly.

Yes, he would do it. No matter if she might hate him for the rest of _eternity_.

He slowly crawled the few feet that separated them and as gently as he could got on top of her, careful not putting any weight on her broken and bruised body. His dark green eyes looked over at the waxy complex of her face, wishing with all his might to feel it grow warm at their proximity, and nodded to himself.

He would do it. For her he would do what he promised he'd never do, if only to see her shining crimson eyes once more.

Surprised at the sudden revelation and of the protective nature that ran deep into his veins at the moment, he shook his head, trying to clear it. _'This must be love,'_ he thought with dry amusement.

Right. Focus on what you're about to do. Gently, as if not wanting to wake her, he brushed her hair away from her eyes. He leaned down and even so softly kissed her forehead, then her lips and lastly her neck. Then he placed his lips on her ear and whispered softly to her:

"Forgive me, my Merope."

And with those softly murmured words and a last, fleeting kiss to her lips her leaned down towards her neck, he bit her as gently as he could.

* * *

_A/N: Surprise, surprise! **Sweet Bitter Life, remember when you told me that I should totally start putting some action earlier today? Do you? Here it is!** Lol. x33 I really hope you like it man. No need to thank me…xD Anyways, here it is, this chappie, it is so unbearably beautiful. I don't know why, but I totally loved writing in Salazar's POV. It was fantastic!_

**_Things would be explained in later chapter. Have questions? PM me, never fear. ^.^_**

_Well, I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am. Chapter nine is nearly done, so I'll see you guys soon~ Ta-ta!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine:**

"…_So after he did what he did to save her, he immediately felt the guilt rising on his chest and very soul, thing that terrified him deeply. He thought –no, he was sure of it, actually—that she was going to hate him for the rest of eternity for making her what she is at this very moment. But what he did not know was the he had just shown her a mercy that no one before had shown her, therefore making her see him in a completely new light, considering what he was exactly and what he'd done for her."_

* * *

**August 7****th**** 2020**

"_Holy mother of Lilith and all that is sacred, what in Merlin's name have I done!?" _

That was the first coherent thought that whispered softly through the mind blowing fog that was the pleasure of finally having good blood and he couldn't help but panic ever so slightly when his dark green eyes fell on the slowly closing wounds that were on the neck of his Merope.

He, of course, knew exactly what he'd done but that did not mean that he was happy about it, well he was but it was a very complicated topic to try to explain at the moment, considering the state of mind he was currently in. Salazar felt oddly afraid, which was a new thing considering that he'd done what he'd done in order to save the person he had this weird connection with, and his thoughts were frantic with worry for the girl.

'_She is going to hate me for eternity.'_ Was repeated mentally like a mantra.

His pale hand clenched the dark green shirt tightly, knuckles white as the thought echoed on his mind. His breathing became quick as the twinges of pain on his usually cold and very _dead_ heart, became nearly unbearable. Somehow, that simple thought that once brought either indifference or great pleasure, now brought unbearable waves upon waves of pain. It was completely confusing and he was starting to question his sanity. Why is this happening?

"What is happening to me?" Salazar said between pained pants.

A gasp escaped his pale lips when a sharp twinge of pain flashed on his chest. With eyes wide with growing panic, his knees buckled and he fell with a soft sounding thud on his knees, hand still glued to his chest. Even though his pain was strong, his dark emerald eyes fell on her still figure almost without a thought. His pain increased ever so slightly but even then his eyes never closed and never wavered away from her form for he found solace in the girl. He was entranced by her; entranced by her pale skin, by the scars that marred her body in a strange beautiful way, by her long black hair, by her full, rosy lips…By her scent. Her sweet blood and the soft taste of her skin called out to him constantly, making him dazed and lightheaded.

How come he hadn't noticed this before now?

Now that he noticed all of these things, Salazar noted how deeply attracted he had become with Merope, ever since their first meeting. Ever since then he couldn't get her out of his head, not even when he tried. Heck, not even his Occlumency walls couldn't keep her out of his mind!

Every day he'd been wondering about her, recalling her almost-there-but-not-quite smile, remembering in the quiet of the night how beautiful and unique her mesmerizing crimson eyes were, wondering about her scars, about her life and to sum it up, _her_ came to the forefront of his mind and smiled a pained smiled in her direction. He remembered everything clearly, feelings and all.

But the question was: _why?_ Why exactly was he…_feeling _all of this? Why now? Why _her_?

Immersed in his pain and confusing feelings and many questions, he didn't notice how the room seemed to darken all the more and how a man was literally spit from the shadows. He noticed minutes after that, when a pale hand gently, comfortingly squeezed his shoulder. Looking up, Salazar saw the one person who could most likely answer his questions.

Gustav von Bachmeier, Head of the Bachmeier Clan.

The man was an average sized man, with ginger hair and an equally ginger goatee. His skin was pale, like most vampires have, which made him look like an inhuman creature (which he was). His features were sharp, stern. His eyes were a shocking blue and they seemed to shine brightly, unnaturally. His muscled body was crouched besides his trembling one and his blue eyes were looking at him over in worry and slight confusion. After what seemed like an eternity of pain and silence, the man spoke; his deep voice tainted with worry.

"What is this? What happened to you?"

"I—Please, help her." Salazar managed to choke out, his eyes never leaving her.

"What-?" Gustav started but stopped speaking rather abruptly. With a speed only known to be a vampire's own, the ginger headed man was leaning ever so slightly over Merope, his bright blue eyes wide and frantic with worry that puzzled the younger male ever so slightly. The man quickly started working on her, mumbling spells under his breath and waving his hand over her prone body. Salazar, knowing that his Merope was going to be alright for now, fell on his back tiredly. His panting was still present as was the pain but he couldn't care about that as relief flooded his body.

She was going to be alright, Gustav is checking her. Everything is alright now.

Sighing in relief, Salazar closed his eyes. He heard a bit of rustling but didn't do anything until the scent of Gustav came closer to his body. A wave of gentle magic spread through him and he sighed contently, thanking the deities, for his pain was dulled. The parselmouth opened his eyes only to see a smirking Gustav looking down at him, that after a few minutes of silent smirking—was that triumph the man was oozing?—ordered him to get up from the floor. Scowling in annoyance at being ordered, he obeyed and proceeded to sit down in a chair that was in front of Gustav's own chair.

Both men stared at each other in silence for a few minutes, one trying to figure out why the other was feeling smug about while the other was amusing himself by trying to figure out the possible case scenarios of how his charge was going to react by the news he had for him. So trying to contain the laughter that was managing to escape his lips, he stapled his fingers together and placed his chin upon them and gave Salazar a serious look.

"I don't know what happened here and you are going to tell me, but not now, considering you look dead on your feet." Gustav smirked.

Salazar's lips twitched slightly. "Oh ha, ha. How hilarious, Gustav. Really, you are killing me."

"Your sarcasm doesn't cease to impress me, Salazar. Honest. Now, let us cease this bantering, tell me now have you been feeling attracted to someone, been thinking about someone even when you don't want to? Have you been feeling restless when not near said person? Perhaps a bit upset, mentally and physically? Does that person intrigue you very much, like no one else had been able to do? When you see that person, do you feel the urge to cradle that person to your chest, kiss that person and make that person yours? To _protect_? Do you like that person's scent?" The red haired man asked, leaning forwards with an almost analyzing and slightly predatory gaze.

And Salazar could only gape at him. "How did you-?"

"Does it hurt? In your chest, every time you think of not having that certain person, seeing her? Of that person hating you? Would you do anything for that person, even die? Would you kill? Do you find beautiful things that other people might find horrible about that person? Are you afraid to lose that person?" Gustav continued on, completely ignoring Salazar's question.

"H-How—Y-Yes, but _why_?"

Gustav smirked at him and Salazar had the urge to wipe that smirk off his face, but refrained from doing so, knowing that if he reacted the infuriating old man was not going to give him answers, if only to spite him. "Why you ask? Well the answer is quite simple, actually. She-" The ginger pointed at the sleeping form of Merope with a small smile on his stern face. "-Is your mate."

It took long minutes for a reaction to settle, but the older man was not disappointed. The parselmouth who was known for being a sarcastic, cold uncaring bastard was so shocked that his jaw went slack and his green eyes widened comically, making him look like a bad parody of an owl. He closed and opened his mouth repeatedly, as if wanting to say something but not knowing what. The man was left speechless, which was a first for the one and only Salazar Slytherin.

"Yes, she is. So in order to make her wake up faster and get your ache away, you need to lie besides her for a period of three days…maybe more considering the state of shock her body is currently in." The man informed the still shocked Salazar, as he firmly grabbed the man's arms and dragged him all the way towards the bed.

"You need your rest too, so here." With that said, Gustav waved his hand in the air and the still shocked parselmouth found himself clad in his green sleeping pants only and before he knew it he was being pushed harshly onto his bed. Instantly, his arms went to wrap around the slim, curvaceous figure of his Merope—his mate. Warmth blossomed on his chest and with eyes slightly dazed and unfocused, Salazar cradled the sleeping body of the girl, the girl unconsciously burrowing even closer to his body as she did so.

With a pleased, fanged smile Salazar got comfortable and glared sharply at the blue eyed ginger who was still in his space. Taking the hint with an amused chuckle, Gustav nodded and left the room in a dense blur of shadows.

Content at last, Salazar tightened his arms a bit around the body of his mate and looked around his room one last time. Once he was satisfied that they were alone and left in peace, he allowed his eyes to shut close with a pleased sigh. Soon enough, he too was engulfed by the blessed darkness that was sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, shortest chapter I posted...but whatever. I want to apologize for my lack of updates in the past few weeks. I didn't have inspiration and no laptop for the matter...so yes. :) Anyways hope you like it. **

**This chap is shorter because I cut out the part that Severus was to have what one would call a little episode but hopefully, with a few perfections and ideas, I will put that up as the next chapter. Hmm...what else? Oh yeah, Salazar has a mate! How exciting, really! Hope you are enjoying this. I know it might be a bit boring but hey, shiz happens! Tell me what you think, yes? **

**Thank you~ **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten:**

_With his knuckles pressed on his lips, Alek glared hatefully down at the floor before his expression cleared and he turned towards the twins and said: _

"_After being transformed, things got a bit complicated for those who were very close to her and were still looking for your grandmother. Especially to one bastard, Severus Snape. (Insert amused smirk here) Your grandmother and the…_man_ had a very close relationship and he found that later on when things became complicated…" He stopped speaking for a second, considering his next words for a while. Eventually he gave up on thinking and shrugged. "I am not very keen on thinking and all that scholar bull, as you know so yes. When a wizard or muggle is turned the person…'dies'. Not literally but…Merlin—"_

"_The soul of the muggle or wizard in question is trapped inside their body for eternity or until it is finally freed by the usual methods known for creatures like us. It is said that the person dies because one cannot feel the soul and the changes literally changes the body and mind to a level that it can be said that it is dead." The young boy stated matter-of-factly._

"_Yeah…that…Uh, that is what happened, yeah. How come you are smarter than me, huh?"_

* * *

**August 8****th**** 2020**

Severus Snape was brewing, not that it was surprising considering that the after mentioned man was a very well known Potions Master, the best in Britain and the world. Now, of course it didn't come as a surprise to know that the man was brewing. Of course not!

But the point is it not in this obvious fact, but in the following question: _Why was Severus Snape, potions master extraordinaire and Lord Voldemort's right hand man, brewing at four am in the morning?_

Truth to be told Severus was feeling a bit odd as of lately, as if something of great importance was to happen at any given time. Tonight was not an exception, on the contrary. He was feeling all the more nervous and anxious that night and if that wasn't enough saying, there was a strange feeling on his chest that just wouldn't leave him alone and it intensified with every passing second. It was getting on his nerves and he couldn't even fathom why he was feeling like that.

So he brewed with a small frown of concentration in between his brows, the gentle sound of the sloshing potions and the methodical counter-clockwise and clockwise stirs calming his frayed nerves with their logical-ness. The potions fumes gently hit his face, their unique smells also calming him down greatly.

The silence was comfortable, the only sound being that of his breathing, the ruffling of his notes when he breathed on them as he took a closer step so he could read, the sloshing of the potions and the soft simmering of the mixing ingredients. After what seemed like hours of unending silence and hard work, the potion was finally finished and the usually stoic and dark man turned around to face the smiling, if slightly tired form, of his blonde godson, Draco Malfoy. The young blonde walks up to him and peers inside the cauldron, his grey eyes alight with wonder and child like curiosity.

A sniff and some staring later, Draco turns towards him with a small smile on his face and asks, "Is this what I think it is, Uncle Severus?"

"If you managed to guess correctly, which I really doubt Dragon, then yes. It is a Wolfsbane potion." Snape replied with what many would say was an arrogant air around him and a cocky smirk. "My updated and better version of it, of course, not the cheap stuff they sell out there, mind you."

"Yes, yes, Uncle Sev." Draco waved dismissively in excitement. "Can you teach me it, Sev? Can you, can you?"

Severus opened his mouth to answer him but found he couldn't as he doubled over in pain with a gasp. He paled dramatically, his skin turning into a yellowish color and a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin. He stumbled onto the young blond as pain coursed through his body. Pain shot through him, recognition made his blood freeze and his obsidian eyes to widen as a voice seemed to get louder and louder in his mind.

"No." He somehow managed to choke out. Draco was screaming for help and Severus was aware of it, but it was only a faint whisper in his mind, like a tickle. His pain suddenly doubled, as if he was being kicked repeatedly, searing pain all over his body and terror running through his veins. An agonized scream broke free from his lips, full of unbearable pain and terror. He felt like tearing his skin away. He felt dirty, so very dirty. He wanted to die and simply fade away but couldn't, the pain was proof enough of his humanness. Lucius, Fernir and Remus came down and took each of his arms, dragging in slight panic his jerking body out of his laboratory. Once outside, he shakily shook them off him and stumbled his way towards the nearest window, his eyes clouded over in overwhelming pain.

The screams, pleas and cries of hysterical pain filled his brain all the more; making him shut his eyes and press the palms of his hands against his ears with the hope of blocking the horrible, blood curling screams out. It was in vain. He fell onto the floor in a weak heap of limbs and curled up in a fetal position and didn't move for what like felt hours; long hours of agonized whimpers, pleas and screams of unending terror.

People were around him, trying to know what was wrong with him, but they were only phantoms to him, locked away in their world of denial and oh so blessed ignorance. It was only him, the pain and the screams that echoed eerily in his brain over and over again. His whimpers and incoherent mumbles fell deaf to his own ears, but those who heard them got all the more worried.

When Severus was sure that he was about to succumb to insanity, a blessing for sure, it stopped as quickly and suddenly as it had begun. He breathed in a long, silent sigh of relief. Now that he was not hearing screams and whimpers and whimpering himself, he realized for the first time that he was being talked to, thing that managed to get recognition from his still shell shocked mind.

"Severus! Severus, oh Merlin, please answer me!" the nearly hysterical voice of Harry broke through the heavy haze that was on his mind.

He uncurled from his fetal position and stared up at the slightly relieved yet peeved green eyes of Harry James Potter and the red slightly worried ones of Lord Voldemort. His eyes filled with tears as he watched the man who had given birth to the little girl that had managed to worm herself into his heart look at him in panic and as he watched the red eyes that she had inherited. If they only knew…

A giggle escaped his lips…and that giggle soon turned into laughter.

Hysterical laughter that tore his very soul as anguished, bitter tears fell down his cheeks and sobs wracked his thin body without mercy. His choked laughter echoed in the now silent room as six pairs of eyes watched him with growing alarm and unease.

"What-?"

"G-G-GONE! The screams…pain…it hurt! P-Pained whim-whimpers…had broken soul…dead." He cried between hysterical laughter and tears.

"W-What? Severus..?"

"Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, DEAD!" was his anguished, choked out answer.

"T-Tom…" The red eyed male, who was frozen on the spot looking at the strongest of his man, blinked twice before he kneeled besides the weeping man and gently grabbed the man's face. As his eyes met the obsidian ones the man started to cry harder and with a last worried glance at his husband and friends, he pressed his wand on the man's temple and whispered softly:

"Stupefy."

And with that, Severus Snape froze tears still running down his cheeks, the sorrow still fresh on his face.

* * *

A/N: Holy shizzz~ I am meaaan man, seriously. Treating dear Sev like that. I love it. Dang man, I loved writing this chapter especially with Kalafina on. Woo! Inspirational~ Anyways, this is Severu's part, hope you enjoy it as much as I did. .-. Might be a bit confusing, but I think that if you read the chapter and then read all that talkng on the top, you'll understand. But it'll be explained later on, I promise you. :)

Next chapter there would be a bit of sexy time...maybe. OwO Who knows? But seriously, I am thinking that there might be some sexy time next, nothing too implicit, don't want my story deleted along with my account, no. So, until next time! And thank you those who have viewed this story and are reading this...Please, keep putting up with me. ^w^


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